Love, save the empty
by Ms.Yazzy
Summary: Charlie Sander, aspiring private eye is forced to move in with her godmother Jenna Sommers and the Gilberts. Her parents are missing and she soon realizes that Mystic Falls really lives up to its name. When she starts digging, the resident vampire brothers aren't too thrilled. Especially Damon. How will she balance new school and friends, old secrets and grudges. DamonxOC
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing that you recognize.

**A/N: **Alrighty! This character has been with me for almost half a year and she somehow found herself in TVD. It's slightly AU, loosely follows the main plot of the show but my OC has her own thing going. Plenty of places and faces you will recognize. Oh, and possible crossover with Supernatural, since in my head, I have convinced myself that both shows exist in the same universe. Enjoy!

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Love, save the empty.

Chapter 1

_Joseph Conrad once said, the beliefe in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary, men alone are quite capable of every wickedness._

"You know that I could just be an emancipated teen and live on my own."

"Haven't we gone through this before?" my mom asked, glancing at me sideways. "You'll be an emancipated teen over my - _and_ your father's - dead bodies."

"Just checking," I mumbled, gazing out the window of the passenger seat. "I'm just feeling jittery."

Mom chuckled. "Relax, babe. You'll love it here. It's a great town, with amazing people - "

"Who know people, know people, _know_ people," I interrupted her. "Not to mention it's called Mystic Falls, which doesn't get weirder than that."

"I used to think it was weird too," she agreed.

"Sounds like something straight of fantasy novel."

"It does conjure up an image of mysticism, doesn't it?"

I watched my mother from half closed lids and I simply knew, just like I knew the back of my hand, that something was seriously amiss. I went along with her pathetic excuses and poor attempts of calm demeanour, but a big bomb had been dropped on her lap.

For a while, I had been sure it had something to do with my missing father but she reassured me it wasn't that. Or her job as a private detective. No, this was something personal and something I appearantly shouldn't be involved in. Something that forced her to uproot me from my school, friends and old life and dump me in her childhood town with some long lost friend of hers.

"I'll be damned," I heard her mumble. "This place hasn't changed one bit."

"Small, conservative, remember?" I eyed the small quiet roads, the trimmed lawns, the historical architectures. "Quasi-college town?"

"Just a tight-knitted community of barely five hundred," mom replied, reading an adress from a scrap of paper. My stomach was in knots and my palms began to sweat. It was a little after three in the afternoon but there was no sun in sight. It was humid, cloudy and everything seemed ... for lack of better words, dull.

"You know, I could be a perfect partner."

"What?"

I licked my dry lips. "I mean, I could accompany you on this kamikaze mission you're flying off to do. Just think of those long, winding roads...one could get awfully lonely when there's only a few WHAM! cassettes and some mix tapes. We could drive in shifts, and I can keep you sane through those tedious stake-outs and oh- did I mention long, winding roads."

She sighed. "We're here, kiddo."

"Here? Where? You're slowing down. Why are you slowing down? No. Keep moving. I can be the perfect Jet Girl to your Supergirl. _C'mon_ mom."

She turned off the engine and smirked at my panic attack. I took a gulp and looked at the two storey house in front of me. Big, nice and cozey. Under any other circumstances, this would have been the perfect home. Mom got out and hurriedly followed suite, in hopes of blackmailing her into taking me with her.

"Ma! You can't just _abandon_ me in the hands of strangers! Think of what dad would say about this? He'd be furious!"

She started for the house. "Actually, your father wouldn't entrust you to anyone but Jenna."

"Wh-wait! Dad knows her? I thought she was your friend."

"Your father's childhood friend, his best friend, my college roommate, our matchmaker, my maid of honor and your godmother."

"Whoa! Many titles. She must be very important." She rang the doorbell. "So how come we never met."

"You did meet. When you were little. You just can't seem to remember her."

"Lovely," I murmered.

The door opened and a pretty redhead whom I presumed was Jenna stood there, simply gawking at us.

"Long time no see," mom offered as a greeting before they squeeled like two teenage girls and hugged each other. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Oh my God, Jess, you haven't aged a bit."

"I could say the same."

Jenna, with bright eyes and wide smile turned to me. "And you've grown so much, Charlotte."

I offered her a smile. "It's Charlie. Nice to meet ya. Mom talks about you all the time."

"Really?"

I turned to mom with raised eyebrows. "Oh yeah. She filled me in on all of your glory days and sexcapeds."

Mom's lips tightened around the corners and Jenna's eyes widened more. "Free spirited," she explained. "Gary and I have brought her up a little too liberal. I guess I need to rethink my parental tactics."

Her smiled could cut glass.

"Oh, where are my manners. C'mon on in."

"Cute," my mom whispered when Jenna was out of earshot. "Just make sure you don't let your mouth run away with you here. This is not Staten Island and they won't get your sense of humor."

"When did anyone ever."

"I'm just sayin'."

"Don't be strangers. Charlie, get comfortable. This is your new home. And Elena and Jeremy are just so excited to finally meet you."

When she saw my perplexed expression she said, "My nephew and niece. The Gilberts."

"Ah." I nodded sagely. "The Gilberts."

"School just let out a while ago so they will be here pretty soon. Do you wanna see your room?"

"Sure."

I followed her up the stairs to the second storey and she opened the door at the far end of the hallway. Right next to the bathroom. Sweet. The room was fairly large, with a king-sized bed, a vanity, a walk-in closet and a study desk. In short, the room was perfect. Which bothered me because I was trying hard to stay detached. The last thing I wanted was to plant roots here, because honestly, I hate goodbyes. My plan was to keep interactions to the minimum, do my time and just get the hell out of here.

Sometime, during my musing, Jenna left the room and I began to unpack my backbag. I heard muffled voices floating upstairs, accompanied by footsteps, one set heavier than the other. I checked my reflection. Curly hair tamed, mascara not smeared and I was presentable.

"In here, Jeremy," I heard Jenna say.

"Did she pack her entire house?" a young man's vocie replied. He was grunting with effort.

"Jeremy!"

Jenna entered first, her face set in a disapproving frown, and behind her, among my heavy luggage was a cute boy around fifteen with brown hair that screamed for a barber's attention.

"Let me get that," I mumbled and reached for a suitcase.

He smiled. "Nah, I got it. " He sized me up. "And you could use the help, no offense."

I could feel my hackles rising. My greatest disadvantage was my height and throughout my life, I've heard people commenting on it. From girls who look down on me, to boys who think petite is synonymous to cute, to the elderly "who just wanna put me in their pockets".

He dropped them near my bed and stretched his muscles.

"I'm Jeremy Gilbert."

"Charlie Sanders," I said, shaking his hand.

"Jenna has been talking about you for the past... _month_. I was beggining to think you were a mythical creature. Since she had zero photo evidence to back up her case."

I chuckled. "Well here I am, a living legend."

A knock on the door interrupted us. A pretty brunette was leaning against the doorframe.

"She's real," she said to Jeremy in mock surprise, but smiled at me. "And a mere earthling."

"And oh so tiny," he added. I sent him a glare and his grin grew.

"And she's standing right here. Elena, I take it."

"Charlotte, isn't it."  
"Uh... Just call me Charlie. Charlotte is just on official documents."

"Noted. C'mon, Jenna is setting the table and she will blow a gasket if we hog you for ourselves."

"It's no secret that you're her favorite, you know. Blood relations mean nothing to her," Jeremy joked as we went downstairs. "So the lady who came with you, she your mom?"

"Yep."

"Oh."

I could see the wheels running behind his eyes so I put him out of his misery. "Interracial."

"Ah."

"My dad's black."

"Of course," he agreed hurriedly.

I laughed. "No worries, bro. You're not the first nor will you be the last."

"You have her eyes," Elena commented.

"As far as physical resemblance goes, that and her cheekbones. The rest is all original. Hmm, something smells delicious."

"That would be Jennna's famous meatloaf. It's to _die_ for."

"Only made for Christmas, upon someone's death and apparently the arrival of the legendary goddaughter," Jeremy said.

When we entered the kitchen, the table was ready and set as if we stumbled on an all you can eat buffet.

"I wasn't sure what you liked," Jenna explained. "So I made a little bit of everthing. Wait, you're not vegan, are you?"

I exchanged a bewildered glance with my mom. She shrugged and took a seat.

"Uh, no. Jenna...this...you didn't have to." I was at loss for words, which is very rare.

"Nonsense. C'mon. Grab a chair and let Mystic Falls welcome you."

And what a warm welcome it was.

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**So what do you think? Reviews would be appreciated a lot. Constructive criticism too.**

**xoxoxoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

It's a given, in a town as small as this one, news travel blindingly fast. Come Monday morning and it seemed as if everyone had the "the new girl" on their lips. So when Elena parked the car, necks craned, ears perked up as every pair of eyes tried to catch a glimpse of the legend. I should be flattered, really.

My old school, Emerson High, almost housed a thousand teens. Such numbers instantly gurantees you anonymity. And of course there was the cultural difference where New Yorkers couldn't be bothered with yet another indivual in the overcrowded city, unlike here where everything was smiles and sunshine. Back then I was one in a thousand, had a few good friends and I mostly did my own thing. The only real friends I had were mom and dad. And getting to help them with their cases definitely earns them the best parents of the year award.

"Congratulations," Jeremy said as he hoisted his bag and got out the car. "You'll be the talk of the school until the next girl gets knocked up."

"That's encouraging. Thanks, Jeremy. I sincerely mean it."

Elena chuckled. "It's not so bad. Give it a chance . You'll like it here."

I seriously doubted that but let her steer me into Mystic Falls high. Jeremy bid us goodbye and joined a group of guys by the football field who literally pounced on him, shooting glances our way.

"I feel like a newly discovered ancient archeological artifact displayed at the Met."

"Trust me, the hype is gonna die out pretty soon," Elena reassured me as we walked the hall to the office. "Most of us have known each other since pre-kindergarten so a new face is quiet refreshing."

"Ha! Well we'll see how long that's gonna last."

She opened the glass door to the office. "Why do you say that?"

The lady behind the receptionist desk looked up from the file's she was arranging. I shot Elena a smile over my shoulder. "Let's just say I have the unnerving ability to piss off the wrong people without trying." She grinned, shook her head and told me she would wait outside.

I turned to the smiling lady. "Hi. I'm Charlie Sanders. Newly enrolled."

Her face lit up. "Oh, yes. Miss Sanders. How are you liking our town so far?"

"It's great," I lied. "I like it very well."

"I've got your papers right here." She shuffled through piles. "Somewhere." An awkward smile which I returned. Some more shuffling. "Ah." Finally. "I'm sorry for all this. We've been doing everything manually since the last time we had our systems hacked." I raised my eyebrowns and nodded wisely.

She handed me the papers. "You have your locker number and combination here. Keep them safe though. It's a pain to change combinations. And this is your schedule. Class room numbers are printed clearly on the doors. And have this slip signed by all your teachers and bring it to me later." Another smile. "Enjoy your day."

I thanked her and walked away. Enjoy highschool. Some joke.

Out in the bustling hallway, Elena stood among a crowd of her friends. I was weighing my options. To go or not to go. Before I could duck and blend with the crowd, she spotted me and waved. I headed over to them, half-heartedly.

"Got everything you need?" she asked once I reached them.

"I'm all set."

"Great. Guys, this is _the_ Charlie you've all heard about. She's Jenna's god daughter. Charlie, this is the gang. Bonnie," Token cutesy girlfriend. "Caroline." Token perky, blond cheerleader. "Matt," Token laidback all American jock. "And last but not least, Stefan." If the tone of her voice didn't tell me he was special, the way in which she gazed at him did.

Stefan. Token Armani model material. Tall, dark and handsome. He offered me a half a smile. "It's nice to meet you."

"Right back atcha," I mumbled.

"So where are you from?" the blond - Caroline asked.

"New York."

"Gosh, I just love your accent. Nuyahk."

I wasn't sure whether she was joking or not so I figured being silent was the best way to go.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Don't mind her. She's a little out there."

"Says the one obsessed with all things witchy," Caroline retorted.

"It's Wiccan," Bonnie corrected with the world-weary sigh of someone who had mentioned this numerous times before.

"Stop freaking out the new girl, you two," Elena said. She turned to me. "What's your first class?"

I checked my schedule. "History. With Mr. Saltzman.

"I've got that class right now," Matt spoke for the first time. "I can take you there."

"That would be great." I smiled. "Thanks."

As if on cue, the bell rang and students rushed to classes.

"So we'll see you around," Elena said as she dragged Stefan with her. "Meet us by the bleachers for lunch. Matt can show you the way."

"C'mon, new girl," Matt said. " doesn't approve of tardiness. He's old school like that."

As I walked the hallways of Mystic High, I decided that I'd put real effort to play nice. Afterall, this was a small town and they were Elena's friends and I wasn't sure for how long I was staying. But one thing I knew for certain, getting on their wrong sides and living with it would be hell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disc****laimer**: anything you recognize belong to their rightful owners.

**A/N:** Yes, I realize you might think the story is developing at a slow pace but I want my OC to establish herself before jumping right into the action. With that aside, Damon, unfortunately won't be making an appearance in this chapter but the one is a definite. Keep calm peeps!

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_**"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one." **―C.S Lewis_

Mr. Saltzman was anything but old school. He seemed nice, welcomed me, didn't ask too many questions and most importantly, didn't make me stand in front of the class to introduce myself. The rest of the day was pretty much uneventful, a kaleidoscopic of faces and names blending into one another. Luckily enough, I shared classes with Elena and her friends.

By lunch hour, I've talked to Bonnie about the pros and cons of Small Town vs Big City. Discussed 30 Seconds To Mars passionately with Matt. In chemistry class, Stefan explained the allotropes of carbon in detail when he caught my lost expression. And now, my previous love life with Caroline.

"So, got a hot home boy pinin' away?  
"None that I know of."

We were sitting on the bleachers, the equivalent of the velvet ropes where the higher echelons of the town hung out. In true high school spirit, you could find the jocks, the cheerleaders, the queen bee and her minions and the queen bee runner-up. I had hit the jackpot on my very first day. That's got to be some sort of record.

"Oh C'mon. You're meaning to tell me you don't have a boyfriend!" she said as if it was the most ridicolous thing she has ever heard. I was trying my hardest to not pass judgement, my _damn_ harderst but Caroline was...

"Had one," I mumbled through a mouthful of sandwich. "Broke up with him over half a year ago."

"What happened?"

"Jesus, Care!" Bonnie hissed. "Seriously, back off already with all the questions."

"It's alright," I said half-heartedly. I spotted Elena and Stefan out in the field, holding hands and smiling and looking just so nauseatingly in love. I wondered what their story was. How did she manage to snag the hottest guy for herself. And speaking of hottest guy, Stefan's facial features were almost statuesque. All perfect angles and smooth curves. Ridicoulous.

"See," Caroline cried. "She doesn't mind." She turned to me. "So spill it. What happened?"

I put the sandwich down and wiped my lips with a napkin.

"Nothing much to tell," I said. "He was my first love and then he wasn't."

"So what, you just fell out of love?" Caroline pressed. "Or did he cheat on you? I bank my lunch money on the latter."  
I shook my head. "Neither."

"He didn't die, did he?" Bonnie asked.

I laughed. "Lord, no. But boy do I wish he did."

"Wait, he had been repressing his homosexuality and went all Clay Aiken on you," Bonnie guessed.

I snorted. "Let's just say he wasn't who he said he was."

I couldn't believe I was actually having this conversation.

"Let me guess," Caroline said flatly. "He turned out to be a pyschotic, manipulative sonofabitch who only wanted you around as long as you were willing to put out?"

I blinked, shocked by the venom she spat those words with. "Uh, yeah. In a nutshell."

"I feel your pain sistah! I dated one like that. Stupidiest thing I've ever done. And that's saying something." And then in a flash, she was back to her normal perky self. "But no worries, we can hook you up with nice local boy while you're here."

I looked to Bonnie who swallowed a smile and raised her hands in surreneder. "When she pulls a Caroline, it's better to just go with the flow. This is the voice of experience talking."

"I'm not looking for anything," I calmly explain to her. Caroline rolled her eyes. "You might not be looking for it, but there's a whole line of suitors just begging to be taken."

"I'm sure."

"And I'm serious. It's officially my mission of the week."

"And I feel honored."

"You can thank me later."

"Don't count on it."

"You'r one of those who just have to have the last word right?"

"What can I say, I'm a Twinkie."

It came to me as a surprise when the receptionist - _Debbie _- told me that Mystic high had a newspaper when I just happened to ask her about. She gave me the room number of a Miss Wentz, the journalism teacher. When I got there, the class was deserted. I decided to wait for five minutes but it was a no-show. Just when I got to my feet to leave, a guy carrying a box of stacked papers entered.

He was freakishly tall, probably over six feet with dark hair and eyes and an easy smile.

"You're the new girl, right?"

"Just as the town christened me."

"And it will stick." He placed the box on the table. "Mark my words. You here to sign up for the club?"

I motioned with my hands at the empty room. "Some club."

A grin. "Yeah, it's kind of a joke really. Most of them are more into which Kardashian is dating who and whether the local football team will win this season."

"So the club pretty much doesn't exist."

"More like it exists only during earth-shatteringly important events. Like Founder's Day, prom, graduation." He pretended to think hard for a while. "Oh, and the apocalypse."

"Page me when that happens." I was disappointed after getting my hopes up.

He leaned down the table "Tell you what, give me you name and I'll drop it by Miss Wentz tomorrow and you'll be in."

I raised my eyebrows. "Just like that? What if my writing _really_ sucks?"

"I highly doubt that," he said. "But feel free to submit a piece of your choice. It's not like there's any competition for open positions or anything. I mean there's only four members..." He cocked his head to the side. "Three actually, since Randy is just a photographer. You're more than welcome to jump on the wagon. But I gotta warn you though, the only thing that is remotely interesting to cover in Mystic Falls are about the animal attacks. _And_ th_at _hype goes away pretty much after a week."

I felt the familiar tingling at the recesses of my brain. Hello, . "Animal attacks?"

"Yeah. Started recently. Whatever the hell kinda animal it is, we don't know. Just that it goes for the throat and sucks it's victims dry." He stares into space for awhile. "One of the victims was a teacher here. Mr. Tanner. Used to teach history before Saltzman replaced him. Can't say we really miss him much."

"Did they catch the thing?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing yet." He chuckled, "Look at me, scaring the crap out of you on your first day. Gotta love the hospitality."

I smiled genuienly for the first time since we got here. "No. It's cool. Actually this is the most interesting conversation I had since I got here."

"Glad I could relieve you off your boredom, new girl."

"It's Charlie Sanders."

"West Dylan. So what brings you to this neck of the woods."

I hesitated before saying, "My parents job sort of takes them all over the country so they dumped me here to have some sort of stable life."

"What do they do? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

Strangely enough, I didn't mind at all. "My dad's a reporter and my mom's a private investigator."

He whistled, impressed. "So I guess this makes you a natural sleuth."

"Popped right at outta the womb with a magnifying glass."

Suddenly his cell phone went off. He checked the caller ID and muttered an oath. "I'm late for practise," he explained apologetically. "I gotta run but I'll catch ya later, right."

"Yeah, definitely. Catch...ya later."

He threw me one last smile as he walked out. I'm starting to think that this town might be a little more bearable.

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**Reviews and constructive criticism much appreciated.**

**xoxoxo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own TVD or any of it's characters. Only my OCs.

**A/N: **And the prodigal son arrives!

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**_Beauty can cover a multitude of sins, but underneath we all look exactly the same - Frank Breitkopf, Criminal Minds_******

"So how's school?"

I waited for the black Honda to drive by before crossing the street and headed to Mystic Grill. Elena and Caroline were already there, probably shooting darts or something.

"School's the same as always," I spoke into my cellphone. "Overbearing teachers, condescending bitches and hormonal jerks."

Mom chuckled. "The whole nine yards, huh?" I made a noncomitted sound at the back of my throat that earned me another bark of laughter. "That's sounds like high school, alright. Promise me you won't roll your eyes when I say that it will be the best years of your life. You might not see it now but ..."

"What have you done to my mother, you imposter!"

"Hey," she sounded defensive. "Just because it sounds trite doesn't mean it isn't true."

It was eight in the evening on a friday night. It seemed as if the whole town had gathered here. The music and chatter was migraine inducing, the smell of fried food and body odour hang thick in the air. People who were mostly drunk loitered outside, trying to either remain upright or not puke. I barely missed a spray of vomit when a smashed guy of questionable hygine burst out the door, nearly getting me in the face. I was tempted to yell after him but controlled my temper.

"Charlie, where are you? What's all that noise?" mom asked. I pressed my hand against my ear to block out the din.

"Oh, that would be the local hangout, mom."

"The Grill! It's still there? Unbelievable!"

On normal days, the place was crowded, but on weekends it was _packed_. It's a mystery to me how the building could fit most of Mystic High in here. The Grill was the only place where all the cliques converged. Except the methheads. Those guys usually enjoy shooting up at the cemetary. Something about the ambiance the surroundings provide. You can't accuse them of not having a sense of humor.

"Not as unbelievable as me actually making some friends," I told her proudly.

"You didn't! Swear to God!"she demanded, excited.

"And in all things Holy."

"I knew it! See, I tol' you this place was good for you."

"Don't get carried away, Ma. I still haven't been sold yet."

I spotted Elena and Stefan across the room, in a booth, their expresions grim. Lover's tiff? Guess Perfect Stefan wasn't so perfect after all.

"Made any new enemies?" Mom wanted to know.

"No. Not really. Does the mayor's son count?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On wheather he's a hotshot or not. Hotshots in high school can either make you or break you."

"You're oh so wise, mama. Sometimes you still manage to impress me."

"So this guy..." she reminded me.

"Rich, hence spoiled. Good-looking, hence arrogant. Hmm, what else? Oh, yes. How can I forget? A quarterback, hence..."

Mom finished my sentence. "Popular. He's definitely a hotshot. Make sure you play nice with him and the other kids. No one invites the bitch to parties."

"You're talking to moi, mama. You're daughter. Composed of half of your genetic make-up. If you think what you just suggested will happen anytime soon, you're seriously delusional."

Mom laughed, long and hard. Her voice was music to my ears."God I miss you so much."

"Me too babe. Me too."

I knew I wouldn't get much but went ahead and asked anyways.

"Where are you, mom?"

"All you need to know is that I'm safe and sound. Currently crashing in some cheap motel off the freeway, wishing you were here with me."

"Then why can't I?

I could practically feel the shift in her mood through the phone.

"Charlie," Her voice was tight, no-shit tone she uses on scumbags and bail jumper who make her chase them down in stinky alleys. I hated that tone. "Just drop it, okay?

I gritted my teeth. "Whatever."

West was by the pool with some boys from the football team. He was laughing at something one of the goofs said.

I heard mom sigh heavily. Suddenly, I was picturing her in that motel room, wearing her bathrobe, lying on the bed. Her blond hair would be in a messy bun, her glasses perched on top of her head. I just knew - like I knew the sun would rise tomorrow- that her blue eyes would be bloodshot from all that driving, and that right now, her brows were knitted together, forehead etched with lines of worry and frustration.

When she spoke again, her voice was uncharacteristically soft. "I feel guilty enough as it is." A rueful chuckle. "So bear with me while I act like a real mother for once." I felt the corner of my lips tug in a smile. "Don't stay up too late?" I guessed.

"And don't drink. And don't get yourself in lock-up. I'm not here to bail your sorry ass out."

"I wasn't planning on that."

"Good."

"What, no lectures of premarital sex and being safe?"

"I figured you covered that in health class. Besides, marriage is over-rated. Half of all marriages end in divorce so there would be a fifty-fifty chance that you won't be married for too long. And speaking of being safe, got your arsenal with you?"

I patted my purse unconsciously. A habit. "Pepperspray and taser are all set. But I had to leave the rocket launcher behind. It clashed with my outfit."

"Cute." I was sure she was rolling her eyes. "So I won't hold you up any longer. Go and be a teenager."

"Sweet dreams, ma."

"God, I hope so." And with that she hang up.

I approached West and the pool table. The Happy Couple seemed to need some space and besides, West and I were actually pretty tight. He was a down-to-earth, fun-loving, witty football player who could hold his own whenever I threw him a line.

West Dylan was a friend of mine.

"Charlie," he said when I tapped him on the shoulder. He was smiling. West was always smiling. And his smile was one of those lazy, effortless smiles that just holds people and makes you just want to hug the life out of him. "You look great!"

I narrowed my eyes at him. I looked like I just rolled out of a meat-grinder, so I was pretty sure he was pulling my leg. Appearantly, Jenna had an improptu date and kicked me out as soon as got out of the shower. I didn't even have time to blow dry my hair. And now they were probably untamable.

One of his teammates, a meathead with Ryan stenciled on the back of his jersey winked at me. I batted my lashes at him. West chuckled and leaned on his cue stick. "No, I'm serious. All those curls, it aptly reflects your personality."

My eyebrows rose up in a challange on their own accord. "Mr. Dylan, care to elaborate on that. I'm not sure I follow. Something about my personality."

He shook his head. "C'mon Charlie. Don't give me that. It might work on the masses, but not me."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"See! You're doing it again! Being stand-offish and defensive. You got that whole angry young woman thing going on."

I couldn't help it, I shot him a glare, probably just proving his baloney theory right. He slung a ripped arm around my shoulder in a sudden burst of affection. He handed me the cue stick.

"What you need is to let that inner fierceness out and unleash it on these unsuspecting bastards." He motioned to the pool table and and shoved me forward. "And in what better way than this."

One of the jocks gave me a once-over, smirked and asked,"Do you even know how to play?"

I widened my eyes innocently and adopted - what I hope- was my best ditzy voice. "It must be really hard since ya'll are playing."

Half an hour later and forty bucks richer, I finally met my match.

It was Stefan. We were neck in neck. Bonnie, Caroline, Elena, Jeremy, Matt and a dozen of other poeple I didn't know were cheering me on, while the boys I humiliated sided with Stefan, including Tyler Lockwood (who seemed adamant to always ruin my mood) in hopes that they could collect some of their dignity.

Stefan leaned parallel to the table, shut one eye and concentrated hard on his last ball. I was silently praying that he missed this shot like I had missed mine. I began cutting deals with God. _If Stefan missed this shot, I swear I'll go to mass for one week. If Stefan missed this shot, I'll bake brownies for the neighbors in act of kindness. If Stefan missed this shot, I'll -_

He got the shot. A boisterous roar erupted from his corner. The bastards clapped him on the back as if he had averted a national crisis._ Alright, God. Deals are off the table._ Stefan, ever modest, made his way to me and shook my hand in sportsmanship.

"Who taught you to play like that?" he asked.

"My mom's office was right next to a bar. We knew the owner and he taught me a few tricks."

Jeremy ruffled my already wild hair. "Girl's got game!"

I slapped his hand away. "Wanna have a go."

He backed off. "I know which battles to loose."

"Good call."

The crowd dispersed after that. Matt and West hogged the pool table, wagering on free lunch for an entire week. Matt _owned _West, then declared war on me._ I _owned _him._

Sometime during a rematch with Stefan, I realized that I was actually having _fun_. The word tasted so foreign on my tongue. I couldn't recall the last time I enjoyed the company of people of my age. My parents would be so proud. Hell, I was proud.

Stefan called for a recess and I didn't complain. We were both down to one ball again.

"I'm going to grab a drink," I told him. "You want something?"

"No thanks."

I turned to the others. "What about you guys?"

No one responded. I flashed half of my earnings. "I'm buying."

West jumped alive. "In that case, I want two cokes."

"And burgers," Jeremy supplied.

"And fries. You can never have burger without fries," Matt said wisely.

"Did you ever taste the onion rings they have here?" Elena asked me innocently.

I stared at her in disbelief. "Elena! You too!"

"I'm on a diet," Caroline stated. "I want a ceasers salad."

I curtsied. "Of course, milady."

I waited for Bonnie. "What about you?"

"I already ate. But a milkshake would be nice."  
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be."

I sighed, shook my head and glanced at Stefan who was trying his hardest not to laugh. "Elena, you wouldn't mind if I borrowed your boyfriend for while,right?"

"Not at all."

I snapped my fingers. "C'mon, vato. We ain't got all night. There's a game to continue.

We chatted about mundane things while we waited in line and ordered. Stefan was nice, considerate, intelligent and had an air of maturity that most boys his age didn't possess. All around, he was the perfect guy every girl dreamed about. And yes, I know some of us lust after the steroetypical 'bad boy' who in actuality isn't anything but an emotionally distant jerk. If it sounds like I'm talking from experience, that's because I'm. The world and mosts of it's men is in dire need of guys like Stefan Salvatore.

I'm positive I've developed some sort of crush on him right now. I was such a teenager.

When the order was up, we helped the busboy carry and set them.

The boys attacked the food like a pack of starved rabid dogs and I shared a look with the girls. I sat there, the game long forgotten, enjoying the moment when a feeling of deep satisfaction washed over me. It was so new, so unexpected that for a while, I zoned out, revelling in it. And when West demanded a refill, I pounced on the chance to get away and figure out what the hell was happening to me lately.

Tyler Lockwood was leaning againt the bar, his eyes rakishly following everything that had boobs. When he saw me, he grinned.

"Well if it isn't the new girl."  
"How are you Tyler?"

My question caught him off-guard, I could tell. "I'm terrific. You?"

I refilled West's drink. "Peachy."

"Throwing a party for the gang, huh." He nodded towards the tables we occupied. "How come I'm not invited?"

I capped the lid and looked up at him. "Would you like that?"

His cocky smile dimmed a few watts. "Are you offering?"

"I mean, it's not a big deal and I heard that you're Matt's BFF."

"BFF?"

"Uh... best friend forever? Duh!"

His smile vanished completely when he realized I was playing with him. I blinked innocently. "What? It's not true?" I slammed my fist against the bar top. "Damn that West Dylan. I can't believe I fell for that! I should've known he was lying. I mean, no offense, but you don't strike me as someone who would hang around Matt."

I saw a vein popping out of his left temple.

"Ask me why?" I told him.

He stood straighter. "What's your end game, shortie?"

I pretended to mull over that a few good seconds. "I'm not sure. It started out as a joke but then... there was this," I glance up at him and leaned in closer. "This feeling of great satisfaction when you just _mock_ someone. You know what I'm talking about right?"

He laughed humorlessly. "You're such a _bitch_!"

"Bitchy Charlie, that's what the kids in school used to call me." I gave him the flat eyes. "What were you expecting, Lockwood. That I would just let the inappropriate comments you had been yelling all week, just roll over my shoulder - and what? - invite you to dinner."

The corners of his mouth tightened. "You're so uptight. It was just a joke."

I could feel the back of my neck heating up, a prelude to an anger outburst. Instinctively, I reached into my purse and felt for my trusty taser.

"It might have been funny to you and your neanderthal buddies, but the joke was on me." I stepped closer to him. "It was on _me_. And I don't take kindly to people who call me a whore." I literally spat the last word at him.

He squared his shoulders. "I never called you that."  
"But it was implied. And don't give the crap about how you didn't mean it like that and the bull! Coz we both know why you've got that stick up your ass!"

"Oh yeah." A few people standing in line were watching us. And him being the hotshot he is, couldn't back down from the challange.

"Please, by all means, enlighten me."

I dropped myvoice a notch. "You didn't like that I turned you down when you came onto me earlier this week. You couldn't handle the humiliation so you stooped to this low in vain hopes that it would somehow restore whatever masculinity I stripped you off in front of the eyes of your friends."

His hand shot out and grabbed my my arm, yanking me closer. Wrong move. Mine shot out too, and sent approximately three thousand vollts through his system. Tyler jerked, his muscles spasmed and then dropped to the floor. A few people gasped and shrieked.

I watched him fight to regain his motor ability and when his accusing eyes landed on me, "You! You stun-gunned me, you bitch!"

I'll be the first to admit that I have some serious flaws. My anger issues, my judgmental streak and keeping people at an arm's length. I also had to get in those last few words. Always. Even now, as Tyler struggled to his feet awkwardly and a crowd formed and West and was heading over, concerned.

"You messed with the bull, Lockwood. You got the horns."

With that, I grabbed West's drink, spun on my heels and met him halfway.

"What the hell was that about?"

"Nothing. Just Tyler being Tyler."

"What did you do? He looks ready to committ murder!"

"I tasered him."

We reached our table. "You what!"

"He manhandled me!"

"So you taser someone." West was bug-eyed. "Jesus! Sometimes it's like I don't even know you!"

"What happened?" Elena asked.

"She tasered Tyler."

"Tyler, as in Tyler Lockwood," Jeremy wanted to know.I nodded. "Sweet!" and we high-fived.

"He_ is _a jerk," Bonnie conceded.

"Wait! Am I the only one who finds this disturbingly wrong?" West asked.

Elena looked at me."Um, is a stun-gun legal?"

I rolled my eyes. "Please. Guns are legal in this country. Stun-guns aren't even considered as firearms."

"Maybe I should get one," Caroline announced. "Do you think I should get one Charlie?"

"I think that every girl needs to keep one fully charged in her purse. And they come in black, which totally goes with, like, everything!"I said in my best Valley girl impression.

Matt snorted. "That's what we need. Getting tasered in the balls when we ask for the time or the directions."

I couldn't stop the bubble of laughter that escaped my throat.

"What happened to the good ol' pepperspray?"Stefan asked.

I took my can out and showed them. They dissolved into laughter. West buried his face in his hands in disbelief. "We've a monster in our hands," he mumbled.

"Ladies, gentlemen, sorry to ruin your fun."

My breath hitched in my throat. In front of me stood easily the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He had sharp facial features, deep-set eyes of the most dazzling blue that could pierce into your soul. His skin was smooth and pale, his hair darker than the sky on a startless night. His lips red, full and stretched into a smile that spelled trouble with a capital T.

And by the way most of the faces around the table instantly shut down, I knew my first assessment of him was spot on.

Stefan rose to his feet, shoulders tense, jaws tight. "Damon, what are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too baby brother." He cocked his head in Elena's direction. "Elena." He searched for familiar faces (which was almost everyone at the table) and said their names in greeting.

Except for Caroline. He called her Barbie. When his eyes landed on me, I held his gaze which was so intense, that it made the hair on the back of my neck stick up.

"I don't think we've met before. You must be the new girl." He extended his hand. From my peripheral vision, I saw Elena visibly tense up and Stefan glanced anxiously at his brother.

"I'm Damon Salvatore. Stefan's big brother."

I took his hand. "Charlie Sanders."

I was expecting him to shake and let go of my hand. Instead, he surprised me by bringing it to his mouth and pressing his lips to it.

I'm not proud when I say that my heart fluttered and I probably blushed. When he let go of it, I had no idea what to do with my hand. It felt big, awkward and useless so I shoved them in my pockets.

Stefan moved closer to him. "Why are you here?"

"Relax Stef, I promise I won't bite your new friend." He winked at me. "Actually, I came here to borrow my baby brother for the rest of the night." He snatched Bonnie's milkshake and took a long sip before handing it to her along with an insincere thanks. She gave him a look of pure disdain and pushed it away. "Some family emergence," he carried on conversationally. "So we have to cut this heart-warming get together short."

He pulled back Elena's chair. "And you're coming with us." His tone was business-like. "Now."

She glanced at her boyfriend for approval. Stefan sighed and nodded stiffly. "Tell Jenna I'm sleeping over at Bonnie's," Elena instructed me and Jeremy.

I knew something was up, something other than a family emergency by the tense atmosphere that somehow rolled in with Damon. And he knew that I knew that they were lying but his smirk translated that he didn't give a shit what anyone thought.

"When will you get back?"I asked Elena.

She stopped and turned around, looking between the brothers.

"I'll get her home safe," Stefan reassured me. "Don't worry."

I wasn't worried. I was curious. And they were being evasive.

Elena gave us another forced smile and disappeared into the crowd with Stefan. Damon hung back to say, "It was nice meeting you, Charlie. Keep your eyes out, we might just run into each other someday."

I shouldn't have taken his parting comment lightly. Because ever since that night, it seemed that Damon Salvatore was _everywhere_.

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**A/N:** So Damon had a smaller part than I set out to write but it seemed like a good place to end. Now that Charlie has met everyone (and I do realize we're four chapters in with no action!), things will heat up from here on out. I promise.

**Reviews and constructive criticism appreciated.**

**xoxoxoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything you recognize.

**A/N: **And now the plot thickens!

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**_Birth and death; we all move between these two unknowns - Bryant H. McGill_**

I found the body.

Few minutes after the arrival and departure of Damon, I called it a night. It was close to midnight and the streets were mostly empty by then. I spotted a shoe, smack in the middle of the sidewalk. You know, the little cutesy ballet flats in a brigth yellow color. Hard to miss. It was so out of place that it took a few seconds longer for my mind to catch up with the image.

As far back as my memories go, I have always hung out at mom's office after school, weekends, whenever I got the chance and when I turned thirteen I actually began working there. First as a receptionist/secretary, then as a partner till I eventually graduated to running background checks and taking over survaillance duty. On cases she decided were safe, that is.

So when that bright yellow shoe caught my sight, the part of my brain hardwired to detecting whirred alive and I found myself moving to take a closer look. As I bent down I found smatterings of blood drops leading to the small alley between The Grill and the pawn shop. There, at the mouth of the alley, lay the body of a girl. Young, maybe thirteen or fourteen years of age. I didn't bother checking for a pulse. I knew she was dead. Anyone who's never even seen a crime scene photo could tell.

It was always the eyes. Glassy, wide, vacant.

I took in the other details. Two distinct and deep puncture wounds in her neck, the blood caked all over her upper body. So were her hands. Probably been trying to stop the blood flow before she died.

Five minutes later, the place was sealed off and crawling with crime scene investigators and onlookers. The first officer who arrived at the scene just began to take my statement when the Sherriff arrived. The officer filled her in quickly. While they were talking, I read her name tag.

_Forbes._

Related to Caroline, perhaps?

Sheriff Forbes seemed agitated, almost on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Which _could_ be considered normal if there was a savage animal on the loose. She placed two calls, both quick and heated, ordered people to go home and lock their doors before finally turning to me. I was standing near the police cruiser.

"Charlie Sanders. I'm Sheriff Forbes. I'm sorry you had to see that."

I offered her a small smile. "Can't say I enjoyed it."

She nodded. "You wouldn't mind coming down to the station with me, would you? I'll have to take your statement." Then as if realizing the time. "Or is too late? We could do it tomorrow morning if you would like."

I shook my head. "That's okay. I'd rather get done with it now."

"Of course. And I know there isn't much to tell but it's procedure so please, be pacient and bear with us. Again, I apologize that you had to see this gruesome scene."

I was tempted to give her a witty quip but I resisted the urge.

And she was right. It took less than fifteen minutes for the officer to take down my statement. I told them I didn't notice any animal or human around the vicinity of the crime scene and that I palced the 911 call as soon as I saw the body. When the officer was dumb enough to ask if I touched and/or moved the body's position in any way, I gave him the flat eyes and didn't even dignify it with a response. I skimmed through the print and signed with a flourish.

Mayor Lockwood burst out the sheriff's office, face contorted in fury. I had to dodge him as he burst out the front doors, driving off in the same manner. Sheriff walked out with her eyes shut wearily as she kneaded her temples. And behind her was Damon Salvatore.

_Interesting._

Wasn't he supposed to be handling the 'family crisis'.When our eyes locked, the surprise was evident in his. He quirked his brows and made a move to my direction. I met him halfway.

"What are you doing here?"he asked without preamble.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Oh. You're still here?" Sheriff Forbes joined us. "Are you done with your statement?"

"Statement?" Damon asked, eyes going between us.

"Poor girl found the body." She patted my shoulder in an awfully maternal way. "You should go home. Your parents must be worried."

I didn't bother correcting her. For my parents to worry, they had to be present. One has been missing for almost half a year and the other was God knows where doing God knows what.

I turned to Damon. "You didn't answer. What are you doing here? Is this the family emergency you were talking about."

His eyes flashed. "No. I'm here as a consultant."

I didn't see that one coming. He held my gaze until it was too freaking awkward and I had to turn away.

"I better get going," I told the sheriff. "Before my folks worry. It's already past curfew."

"Where do you live? I can have one of the officers take you."

"Oh no, it's okay. It's just a ten minute walk."

"I won't have that. It's late and it's dangerous. And there's a chance that that monster is still out there."

I opened my mouth but Damon beat me to it. "I can drop her off on my way home."

My head snapped to him and he smirked.

"That would be great Damon. Please make sure she gets to her house safe."

"Sure thing, Liz. Leave it to me."

Sheriff Forbes then excused herself and left the two of us alone together. Damon gestured towards the front door. "After you."

"Why are you doing this?" I asked as we headed out.

"Doing what?"

"This? Offering to take me home."

"Just being a good samaritan. This way," he said pointing to the opposite direction I was headed to. He opened the passanger seat of a sleek, black Porsche.

I regarded him cautiously. Everything about him screamed 'bad' and 'crazy'. There was a certain menace in his eyes and a his muscles seemed coiled, like a viper ready to attack swiftly at any moment. With a shiver, I got in and he chivarlously closed the door.

I couldn't help it. When he started the engine I asked, "So what was the family emergency about?"

Damon gave me a side-long gaze. "Why do you wanna know?"

I shrugged. "Simple curiosity. I mean, I get that Stefan had to go but Elena... I don't see how it fits. Unless it was the whole girlfriend meet the parents thing."

"Yeah. Something like that."

Vague much.

"Uh, take a left here," I directed him.

"I know where you live, Shortie."

"Don't call me that." I snapped.

"Testy. Must be the PTSD kickin' it," he muttered.

"What?"

He looked at me with an innocent expression."Oh that stands for post traumatic stress disorder."

"I know what it stands for," I said through gritted teeth.

"So, you found the body, huh," he changed the topic, spinning the steering wheel. "Must have been rough for a kid."

I let the 'kid' remark slide. Suddenly I felt very exhausted, the day's events catching up on me. "I've seen worse," I told him.

That seemed to intrigue him. "Really? Catch a few too many episodes of CSI?"

"My mom's a PI," I explained.

He turned to our street and focused his laser eyes on me.

"So what are you doing here in Mystic Falls? Mommy running around the country bringing down criminals or something?"

"Or something," I mumbled, wondering myself just what the hell it was she was actually doing. I closed my eyes against the throbbing pain at the back of my head. The image of the dead girl was burned into brain. I forced myself to recall the memories of my family before we fell apart. Before mom shut me out and I became guarded, putting up walls after wall.

"And your father?"

My eyes flew open. "Huh?"

Damon faced me. "Why aren't you with your father?"

"My father... h-he's been missing for awhile."

I think we were both equally surprised that I had confided him with that information. I don't know what possessed me to tell him that, when I haven't even told Elena or West. Later on I'd chalk it up to lack of sleep and some form of PTSD 'cause Lord knows I wasn't in my right mind.

He studied me for awhile in that intense yet detached way of his. I watched him too, watched him watch me. It was strange yet comfortable. Time seemed to stretch on forever and forever. In a distant part of my mind, I knew that we had stopped moving and that I should get out but I didn't - _couldn't_ - move.

I watched as Damon closing the distance between us. And as if something snapped in me, I became aware of what was actually happening and regained enough motor ability to grab his face and push him away while my other hand dug for my taser.

Damon blinked in surprise and only when I secured my taser did I let go of his face. His eyes widened at the black object between us.

"A taser. Seriously. You're gonna taser me?"

"Only if you try something funny." I cursed myself for being breathless. "Back up." I pressed the trigger, sparks flying from the weapon. "Back up I said."

He raised his hands, a smirk in place. "I was just testing a theory."

"Oh yeah." I took a deep breath. "And what was that theory?"  
"That I'm irresistable to women of all ages."

I couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled inside of me. Damon joined in too.

"You are so full of it," I told him.

He sobered up a bit. "Well, my charms never failed me before. This is a first."

I took off my seatbelt. "You know what they say, there's a first for everything." I turned to him. He was staring off into space, a contemplative expression on his face. "Anyways, thanks for the ride. Good samaritan and all."

"Sure." A smirk. "Anything for a friend of_ Elena_."

His words carried sarcastic undertone. "Bye, Damon."

A bow of the head. "Charlie."

I waved and started for the house. After honking once, Damon gunned down the street, his red tail lights growing smaller until I couldn't see them anymore.

* * *

**Reviews and constructive criticism appreciated!**

**xoxoxoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I only own Charlie Sanders, Jessica Sanders, West Dylan and their story arcs. Rest belong to their rightful owners.

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**_Family: A social unit where the father is concerned with parking space, the children with outer space, and the mother with closet space. ~Evan Esar_**

"Now this is what I call real coverage," Miss Wentz announced to the five people in the room. Three of them gave me the stink eye. West was the only one genuinly happy for me. "This is definetely _the_ cover of the_ year_!"

Miss Wentz was a tiny woman, shorter than me which was saying something. She dressed funny, with long flowy skirts and knitted shirts and dangling earrings and bright make-up that could induce epilepsy. Like an eneregizer bunny, she hopped around everywhere with an optimistic smile that just made your palms itch to slap away.

When she heard that I discovered the body, she made me write an article. Reluctantly, I put it together during lunch hour much to the dismay of Caroline who wanted me to partake in some earth-shatteringly important debate on whether to have the 50s theme or RENT theme for the upcoming school dance. So to get back at Miss Wentz in my passive-aggresive nature, I decided to give a very vivid, very detailed article on the body and even chose the must gut-wretching photo released to the press.

It backfired on me. She _loved_ it. Apperantly it evoked strong emotions, it was full of empathy and I quote her, ''it gives her the heebie-jeebies." Of course, my article blew the long standing member's pieces out the water. Kevin Fisher, upcoming poster boy as the before face for the new acne cream kept staring daggers at me the entire half an hour meeting. The sophomore girl with the blue high-lights called Bethany or Brittany voiced, very loudly how unfair it was that the newbie got the cover story when she, quote, busted her ass the entire fucking weekend, unquote. Randy, the photographer kept fiddling with his camera, bored and unimpressed. Randy has kick-ass dreadlocks that I'd just kill to have. And his tan was _amazing_.

"Don't mind them," West reassured me when the 'meeting' was adjourned. We were headed to the parking lot. "They're just bunch of loners trynna fit in. They probably feel threatened by you."

"Which is just ridiculous. I mean, do I even look remotely threatning?" I batted my lashes at him and he laughed. "Seriously? Punk girl could probably knock me back on my ass in two seconds flat."

"True, but you're sassy, smart _and_ hot."

I stopped in my tracks. Slowly I looked at him. "West Dylan, you think I'm _hot!_"

He flushed instantly, rubbing the back of his neck. "C'mon, don't make me say it." I raised my eyebrows. He let out a long, suffering sigh. "Okay, so it's nation-changing news. Charlie Sanders is hot. Alert the media!"

"You didn't answer me, my friend." I pulled him along. "Do you find me hot?"

"Well, I'd think it would be weird if I didn't. Probably go get a sex change." When I laughed, he playfully shoved me with his shoulder. "I'm serious though. Why do you think Tyler Lockwood has the hots for you? And the entire half of the school population. And a few assorted gay people."

"Now I know you're just trying to be funny."

He gave me his trademark smirk. "So I may have exaggerated a bit."

Out in the parking lot, Elena and Stefan were in a warm embrace looking terminally in love. When they kissed, I made up my mind to walk. I glanced up at West. "What about you, West?" I dropped my voice to a seductive tone. "You got the hots for me?"

He shuddered. "Jesus who is the lord, no!"

Just then, Mr. Saltzman exited the building with his briefcase and stopped beside us to shield his eyes with his shades.

"How's it going, kids?"

I actually liked him. Cool, laid-back and entertaining. One of the few good teachers I've ever had the oppurtunity to have. You know what I'm talking about, those rare ones that you'll always remember. The 'coolest' teacher _ever_.

"Fantastic," I told him. "I was actually thinking about heading to the public library to get some work done."

As much as I like him, I resented the assignment he had given us. In the light of the upcoming Founder's Day, we all had to submit atleast ten pages on the history of this town by next week.

Mr. Saltzman smiled. "Will I lose points if I ask you to have fun while doing it."

"Oh, definitly."

"Well, think of it as a productive learning experience. Since your stuck here anyways, it wouldn't hurt to know something about the town you live in."

"Says the history buff." I felt West step on my foot in warning.

laughed. "Dylan, you're a descendant of the Founding Families, right?"

I looked at my friend. That was a tidbit I wasn't aware of. "Yes sir."

He clapped him on the shoulder. "Do your civic duty and teach her all there is it to know about this fascinating town. Outsiders don't tend to understand the local pride."

"This is my mother's hometown too, you know," I said huffily.

"Really? What's your mother's maiden name?" wanted to know.

"Jennifer Morrison."

"Morrison." He looked at West. "There are Morrisons in the list of Founding Families, right?"

West thought for awhile. "I think so."

"Why don't you ask your grandparents about it?" he suggested to me. "My grandparents are dead," I told him. "They died a long time ago."

I heard curse under his breath. "I'm sorry, Charlie. Foot in mouth disease."  
I waved it away dismisivly."It's cool. They were long time by the time I came around. And you couldn't have known."

"Anyways, you could go to the Fell's Church musuem. I'm sure they have books and other aritifacts that belonged to the Founding Families." He checked his watch and whistled. "Gotta go. I'm late for a date." He patted my head. "And tell me what you find."

"Sure thing, Mr. Saltzman."

I watched him walk away, my mind spinning at the possibility of unearthing century old family secrets. While my brain kept guessing what I'd discover, I spotted a familiar figure, clad in black from head to toe swaggering down the parking lot. Damon Salvatore.

_What is he doing here?_

He intersepted and they stopped to talk in the middle of the parking lot. I couldn't see 's face, but Damon was wearing a serious expression. He rolled his eyes at something Saltzman said. Few seconds later, they were joined by Stefan and Elena. ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He checked his watch again, shook his head and broke away from them to place a phone call.

"Wondering what they're murmuring about?" West spoke from my left. "And just what is the other Salvatore doing here?"

I shrugged. "Beats me."

"Elena seems quite chummy with the both of them."

I cut my eyes to him. He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I'm just sayin'."

"Stefan is her boyfriend," I explained. "That's self-explanatory. But Damon ..."

"Exactly. Damon is _Stefan's_ brother. And it's not as if he has a stellar record either."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he is known for moonlighting the bars for women every nigtht. Rumors have it he goes through them like old grieving Italian ladies go through tissues."

I stopped, savoring his words. "That was the strangest analogy I've ever heard."

"What can I say, I've gift with words. Heads up, they're coming our way."

And he was right, the whole entourage were headed towards the school. My antenna's rose, detecting some strange vibe in the air. Okay, so maybe it was wishful thinking. I was just too damn curious for my own good. I caught Elena's eye and gave her a what-gives look. She tried to cover up the tension in her face with a smile, but it fell flat. shot us a smile before disappearing inside the building.

"And we meet again," Damon said to me.

"On another consulting mission?" I asked sarcastically.

"Nah. Just here to discuss Stefan's grades with the history teacher."

West snorted beside me. Damon shifted his glassy eyes to him.

"Something funny,kid."

Alarm was evident in Stefan's face. He made a move to stop his brother. But I felt my felt my hackles rising.

"Actually," I began, forcing Damon's attention on me. "The image of you being the responsible adult is quite humorous." I was over-protective. Sue me.

West grabbed my arm in warning when he saw Damon's cold face and stepped in front of me. I yanked my arm back and glared furiously at West.

Okay, so maye he was over-protective too. Sue _him_. I'm serious.

"Damon," Stefan said. One word. But it carried so much more. Warning, fear, exasperation. He too grabbed his brother's arm, but for different reasons. The menace I noticed that night at the station was present in his eyes again. It gave me goosebumps. I side-stepped West and planted myself right beside him. Damon smirked in amusement. "I wouldn't worry about her," he told West. "Surprisingly, for someone so small, she can hold her own."

He gave me a look. One that begged me to remember the incident in his car. That perverted bastard. I narrowed my eyes at him. He shrugged and carried on conversationally, "Of course, she could always taser me and teach me a lesson."

I think Elena recognized my two-seconds-away-from-tasering-you-face and decided smartly to intervene. "Damon, let's go. Alaric is waiting." He freed his arm from Stefan's grasp, fixed the collar of his black leather jacket, and with a wink in my direction, walked into the school.

Stefan let out a sigh of relief. I found it amusing that the younger brother was trying to keep the older out of trouble. He gave me an apologetic smile before trailing after Damon. Elena glanced anxiously behind them. "I-I I'll see you at home, okay."

"Yeah. See ya."

When they were all out of earshot, West turned to me.

"There's definitely something between those three. Or four if we count in. And did you notice how Elena called him Alaric?"

I nodded, watching them enter 's class and closing the door. I was very tempted to run after them and eavesdrop.

"You think... something's going between...all of them?"

Confused, I looked up at him. "Like what?"

He chuckled. "You know, some menage-a-foursome thingy." When he saw my expression he hurriedly added, "Nevermind that. Pretend you didn't hear it." Then changing the subject, "So, fighting my battles for me,huh. I gotta ask, Miss Sanders, is it possible that you have the hots for me?"

" 'Jesus who is the lord, no' " I quoted back at him.

He grinned. "I liked it, myself. Vehement, yet effective."

No arguing with that. I glanced up at the sky and sighed again, loud and gusty.

* * *

I never liked museums. Whenever we had a field trip to some other musuem, I used to opt out. That hasn't changed through the years. At Fell's Church, I almost snoozed while upright. The only object that caught my attention was an old parchment enclosed in a glass on display in the room titled 'Founding Families'. I skimmed through the century old list of the original families. I grinned in excitement when I spotted one Gregory Dylan. West's great-great grandfather. Other familiar names jumped out. The Forbes, The Lockwoods, The Gilberts. And surprisingly, The Salvatores.

Even more shocking were the names, Stefan and Damon Salvatore.

I tried not to think too hard. So they were named after their anscestors. Big deal. A lot of people get named after their fathers, and their fathers and their fathers, and it's a long mean and viscious cycle where in the end they resort to putting roman numerals to figure out which one came first.

And was right, there were the Morrisons. Right under the Lockwoods, clear as day.

"Did you find your family in there?"

I spun around, heart beating wildly in my chest. I haven't heard anyone coming in. A middle-aged lady stood by the door, smiling at me. She wore a cocktail dress, brown hair pinned up.

"Uh..I think so," I mumbled, regarding her cautiously.

"Charlotte Sanders, right?"

I really was famous, wasn't I. So much in fact strangers coming up to me and striking up conversations.

"Yeah. And you are?"

She walked in and stepped before me. "Carol Lockwood."

"Lockwood," I repeated, surprised. "As in ...Tyler Lockwood."

She smiled widely. "Oh so you've met. I'm his mother."

Ha! How did she create such an evil spawn.

carried on, "I knew your mother. Jessica and I were childhood friends."

"Really." I didn't see that one coming. "You knew my mom, when she was little."

"We were neighbors. And went to the same school." She had a faraway gaze, in some childhood memory reverie. "We were pretty close until..." her voice trailed off.

"Until my grandparents died," I finished softly.

nodded, eyes full of sympathy. "Your mother was never the same. Fourteen years of age and suddenly finding your whole burn down to ashes." She let out a deep breath. "It would drive anyone insane. Drive them out of the town." Then she looked at me, real deep. "You have her eyes. Those same bottle green. How...how is she?"

In that moment, I forgot that she was related to Tyler. That she was the mayor's wife. To me she was a connection to my mother. To my grandparents. To the past my mother never spoke of. Over the years, whenever I brought it up, she would instantly freeze me out. I pieced together enough to only learn that my grandparents died in a fire while mom was out. And that information was supplied by dad.

"She's fine. She's a private investigator and as we speak, probably following up leads, somewhere."

chuckled. "You know what's funny, your mother always loved all that cloak and dagger business. She had collections of Agatha Christie books and always quoted Sherlock Holmes." She glanced over my shoulder. "For a very long time, the Lockwoods and Morrisons were close. Of course, I just happened to marry into to the family but I know they shared a great bond. All the Founding Families did, but those two were the tighest."

I turned to the worn-out parchment that held so much history and secrets. I found myself wondering what life would be like in eighteen-sixtyfour.

"Franklin Morrison," went on, " had a boy named James and a daughter called Charlotte. You were named after her."

"Wow!" was the only word I could say.

"Well technically you were named after your grandmother who was named after _her_ grandmother but...you're this generations Charlotte Morrison."

For the first time in my life, I had this fiery passion to know more about my family. I couldn't be bothered before. No sibling, no cousins since my dad was an only child too. No grandparents to speak of. I silently laughed at the irony. Dad too was an orphan, adopted and raised by some man called Zachary until he too died.

It had always been mom, dad and I. The three of us against the world. The Sanders.

"What happened to the Morrisons?" I asked .

She titled her head to side, recalling something. "I'm not very familiar with the history, not as much as my husband at least, but I know the son, James, died in the civil war. Charlotte went on with her life, after losing both her father and brother. She was the sole survivor of the Morrisons. She kept the bloodline alive."

"And here I am," I thougth aloud.

"And here you are," she reitariated. "And hopefully so will your children, and their children and theirs."

I nodded.

"Your family are considered heroes here at Mystic Falls. Take pride in that." Then music cut through the quiet room, startling both of us. laughed shakily and rummaged through her purse for her cellphone.

"Excuse me," she told me. "Hello. Sheriff Forbes, I haven't heard from you in a while."

I stepped closer to the glass wall, all the while keeping an ear out.

"What? Now. In broad daylight. How is that even - alright. What do you mean he's not answering. I'll call him now. Yes. Fine."

"Something wrong, ?"

"No. Yes. Everything's fine." Her actions contradicted her. She was frantically pushing the buttons on her Blackberry. She stopped suddenly, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "No actually, it's not. There's been another attack..." And then as an afterthought, she added. "An animal attack." I found it weird that she had to specify that. What else would it be? Zombie attack?

"This animal," I said, threading slowly. "What is it?"

"They think it's a- a- ," she held the phone to her ear. "A mountain lion. Hello, Richard. Thank goodness, why haven't been answering." She walked out the room still muttering.

As I stood there in the empty room full of artifact from another time, one thing stuck out in my mind. How was it that they couldn't grab a mountain lion running amok in the town and preying on humans in broad daylight with no witnesses. And since when does a mountain lion drain it's victim. Common sense states that it would rip the victim apart, limb by limb.

It definitely wasn't a mountain lion. In fact, I can't think of one wild animal that wouldn't at least take a chunk of flesh out. Something wasn't right. What it was exactly, I wasn't sure. But you could bet your ass that I'd figure it out, one way or another.

* * *

**A/N:** I find myself in a bind. The plot is really thickening now and many events are going to overlap. I'm torn between carrying on with Charlie as our narrator or possibly bouncing around with P.O.V to get other character's perspective. What do you think? Feedback needed.

**Review and constructive criticism.**

**xoxoxoxoxo**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **Vampire Diaries belongs to L.J Smith and the CW. I only own my OCs.

* * *

_**"Trust is like a mirror, you can fix it if it's broken, but you can still see the crack in that mother fucker's reflection." ― Lady Gaga**_

"The first attack happened a couple of months ago,"West spoke through a mouthful of fries, flipping an old newspaper as he lounged on my bed. "Around August. It was a boy, one Curtis Hanson. I remember him. One of the meth heads. He was found in the woods, and get this - _three weeks_ - after he was reported missing."

I was on the floor, news articles and clippings all over the floor, take out boxes littered all around. Jenna was going to blow a gasket but I was too focused to give a crap. I had also managed to rope West on my little quest for truth. Who am I kidding, I took a lot of cajoling and bargaining to get him to agree. So on a Saturday morning, he came crashing through the front door with a box of newspapers that had accumulated dust bunnies at the bottom of Miss Wentz drawers. When Elena asked what was going, "Club project," we muttered, rushing past her.

It wasn't that I didn't trust Elena. Honestly, I didn't trust her by associations. She was, as West so eloquently put it, quite _chummy_ with the Salvatore brothers. I wouldn't put it past her to tell them whatever I told her.

West belched loudly. "Anyways, I think I knew the kid. Not knew-knew him but you know, knew him in that small town I-ran-into-you-at-the-Grill-once-upon-a-time kinda way."

"Who found him?" I asked, crossing my legs and resting my chin on my hand.

His eyes skimmed through the text. "Well, would you look at that. None on other than Vicki Donovan."

I showed him my palms. "Care to elaborate, vato. Unless you forgot, I'm the new girl in town."

"Vicki Donovan is... was...Matt's sister."

"Was?"

"She's dead. Another victim of the attack." Then as if he recalled something, he sat up straighter. "Wait, Vicki went missing before her body was found in the woods as well." His eyes shone bright in excitement. I could feel it too, in my bones, buzzing in my blood. The rush when you put the pieces together.

"What about the other victims?" I asked him, flipping through the papers. "Were they reported missing as well?"

He shook his head, his overgrown hair falling into his eyes.

"No. Most of them were going about their daily lives when they were killed."

I sighed, loud and gusty and let myself drop to the floor, my whole system crashing.

"This...sucks," I spoke to the ceiling. "We've been at it for hours. Something's gotta give. Just when we think we found a pattern, some kink crops outta nowhere."

I heard the bed creak under West weight then the floor boards and he joined me for ceiling gazing. "Let's go over it," he suggested.

Closing my eyes, I said, "Okay. What do we know so far? That the attacks began around last summer."

"Yep."

"And that the animal goes for the neck and sucks the victim's blood." My eyes snapped open and I sat up. "It's that detail that bothers me. I mean, seriously what wild animal does that."

He too, sat up and pulled up the laptop. After a few keystrokes, he turned the screen towards me. I laughed out loud.

"You asked google for blood sucking animals?" I said in disbelief.

He shrugged."And it worked. Gotta love Google."

We went through website after website but alas, it was hello again to Mr. Square one. Unless of course we are willing to believe that vampire bats, vampire finch (some bird), kissing bugs, leeches and mosquitoes were getting the drop on humans and wrecking havoc in the city. Frustrated, I slammed the laptop shut.

"Whoa! West exclaimed. "Temper. Manage your temper. Don't take it out on my precious."

I pulled my hair into a messy ponytail. "I'm hot," I told West.

His did a once over. "Yeah. But I think we covered that already."

I pinched his nose. Hard. "Don't be cute. I meant I'm feeling hot and I coud use some ice-cream." I got to my feet. "I'm sure I've seen a tub of Rocky Road in the fridge last night. Wait for me."

Nothing would have prepared me for the scene I met with downstairs. Jeremy and Damon on the couch, playing video games.

"What are you doing here?" I asked Damon while I grabbed my ice cream.

"Hello to you too, Shortie."

"Don't call me that." I picked out two spoons. "Again, what are you doing here?"

"Kickin' baby Gilbert's ass in a video game."

I walked into the living room and parked myself in front of the t.v, much to their annoyance. Jeremy grumbled before pressing pause.

"Shouldn't you be doing something more productive and - I don't know- maybe offering your services as a consultant to the Sheriff's department and catching the thing that's killing people."

Jeremy's eyes darted between the two of us with a hint of worry. Damon's ever present smirk hardened around the edges. "Why don't you let the grown up us worry about that."

I chuckled, humorlessly. "Oh, so you're basically telling me to put my life in your hands. Is that it?"

"You may not know it, _Charlotte_, but your life is already in my hands. So be careful." He stood up and walked around the couch to the stairs. "If I were you, I'd stay out of this." He made a move to go up but turned as if he recalled something. "Oh, and killer legs, by the way. You should flash 'em around more often."

I could feel my cheeks burn in embarrassment. I cursed myself for sauntering around in only short, shorts. I flipped him the bird just before he disappeared.

"What's he really doin' here Jeremy?"

Jeremy shrugged. "Beats me."

"C'mon, you don't really expect me to buy that right. Damon is not here to play video games with you. So why is he here?"

He squirmed in his seat. "Look, all I know is that he's here to help Elena out. Stefan asked him to do that."

"Help her with what, Jer?"

"I dunno."  
"_Jeremy_!"

"I swear! Apparently it has something to do with Stefan. Basically some people from his past is out to 'get him'," he made air quotations with an eye roll. "Elena is under house arrest and Damon is here to enforce it. Is all I know, okay. Is all they _let_ me know."

My mind immediately went back to the night at the Grill, the first time I met Damon. The mysterious and ambiguous family crisis. Is this what he was talking about? I apologized to Jeremy for putting him on the spot but he waved it away. I carried my stash upstairs, my mind spinning. Elena's door was ajar. I knocked on it.

"Come in," her voice called out. I pushed the door open with my bare foot. She was reading Cosmo magazine as she lay in bed.

"Charlie, hey." She sat up and looked at me questioningly. "Something wrong?"

My relationship with Elena is complicated. At least from my perspective. If I was back at home in Staten Island and a girl like her sat next to me in class, I'd give her the cold shoulder. Girls like Elena (preppy, pretty and popular), we shared nothing in common. I knew a few of them. They despised that I was a liberal minded, smart-alecking chick who wouldn't think twice if it came down to smashing their perfect noses. Now I'm not saying that Elena is the personification of evil high school bitches. When it comes to the dynamics in this screw ball of relationship of ours, let's just say there's alot of walking around egg shells thing going on.

Plus, she doesn't get my sense of humor.

But she was nice, caring and private, which is something we had in common. The private part. I'm not really overly nice or caring. The time her privacy becomes a pain in the ass is when I want to figure things out and she plays it close to the chest.

"I couldn't help but notice Damon's presence downstairs," I told her nonchalantly.

She hit her head on the headboard and groaned. "Is he still there?"

"Yep. Playing video games."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Saw it my very own eyes." She smiled. I moved in for the kill. "So what's he doing here?"

"Uh, he's just baby sitting me."

"What?"

"It's a long story."

She wasn't getting rid of me that easily. I placed the tub of ice cream and silver ware on her desk and sat on the edge of her bed.

"I'm all ears."

I could tell she was very uncomfortable. "It's nothing, really."

"Elena, please, I'm not stupid." She opened her mouth but I raised my hand to stop her. "And I'm not saying that you think I'm. But something must be really wrong if Damon Salvatore is your designated body guard."

She dropped her head, shoulders sagging. "You're right. I'm sorry. I know you're only being a concerned friend."

And there was that too. Somewhere. Deep inside. _Very_ deep.

"It's Stefan."

"Does this have anything with that family emergency of last week."

"Uh, yeah. Some people from Stefan's past want to hurt him and he's just being Stefan," she said in exasperation. I rolled my eyes in my best impression of Caroline. "I told him he's being paranoid but he wouldn't listen. And this morning Damon shows up saying he's here to protect me." She combed her hair with her fingers.

"So these people after Stefan, are they dangerous?"

She thought about it for a few seconds. "I don't think so but Stefan and Damon aren't telling me much."

It seemed like the Salvatore brothers were the ones that running the show. And in true Elena Gilbert fashion, she said the bare minimum and even kept that vague.

"So Damon said that he drove you home that night from the station." she stated conversationally, turning the tables on me.

I was caught off-guard. "Oh yeah, he did. Why do you ask?"

She bit her lip, hesitating and then dropped her voice to a whisper. "Did...did he try anything?"

"No, not really," I lied.

Elena wasn't sold. "Nothing? Nothing at all?"

I pretended to think. "Well, if you meant hitting on me then yes. He did that."

She scooted closer to me, still whispering she said, "Be careful around Damon. He's...he's dangerous."

His icy blue eyes flashed in my mind. Cold and feral. I didn't doubt her. "How so?"

She gulped. "Damon is complicated. He's been hurt before, real bad, and now he doesn't trust anyone. Not even Stefan. He doesn't let anyone in. He doesn't care about anyone. Damon just doesn't _care_." She took my hand and squeezed it. "And if he's extra nice and paying a little too much attention to you it's coz he wants something."

"Like getting into my pants," I joked. This whole conversation seemed pointless but I let her humor me. And she _was_ only being a concerned friend. At least one of us was. Which definitely made her the better person. I felt a pang of guilt in my heart and my mouth tasted bitter. I squeezed her hand back.

"I'm a big girl, Elena. Don't worry. I won't let him charm me with his good looks or those blue eyes of his. I refuse to fall for his witty remarks or black wardrobe. I'm made of tougher stuff than that. So have a little faith in me."

Elena smiled. "I know. And I know him too. He can be persistent."

"And legends have it I'm the most stubborn of 'em all."

"I don't doubt that." She let go of my hand and relaxed in bed. "So did you find an outfit for the school dance."

_Oh boy_.

Fifteen minutes later, after indulging in mundane and nauseatingly girly talk I excused myself, cursing myself for forgetting about West. My steps faltered when I saw Damon standing in my room, newspapers in one hand and my notepad in the other. He was flipping through it, reading my theories and thoughts. I could feel my blood pressure rise at his intrusion.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked him through gritted teeth.

He turned, eyes wide. "Oh, is this your room? I was looking for Elena's."

"Cut the crap, Damon. We both know that Elena's room at the other end of the hall. No way you could've missed it."

He waved my notepad around. "Planning on following your mother's footsteps."

"Give me that." I marched towards him but he moved it out of my reach.

"Uh-uh. Not before you tell me what the hell you think you're doing."

"None of your business, Salvatore."

"I hope you're not planning on doing something stupid, like digging into this. Coz that would be..." His blue eyes flashed. "_Extremely_ stupid."

"Again, doesn't concern you. Now hand me my notepad."

"Remember what I said downstairs a while ago. Your life, along with the rest of the town is in my hands. So when a midget Nancy Drew wannabe goes around looking for trouble, it makes it my business."

I stood there seething from his words. Midget. Nancy Drew. Wannabe! But underneath the anger, a more logical voice emerged.

_Why does he care about it so much? Damon Salvatore, who simply doesn't _care_, now suddenly is. There's something going on._

"Since you're the consultant," I began. "What are your thoughts on the recent attacks?"

"Didn't you hear anything I just said?"

"What animal drains the victim's blood but leaves the flesh intact?"

He stepped closer until there's only a little space between our bodies. I held my ground and carried on, "And if I may, I follow up. The attacks are happening frequently and in broad daylight. Care to share your thoughts with the students and staff of Mystic High."

Damon stared me down, eyes roaming all over my body. They stopped at my ankles. He frowned and I followed his gaze to my ankle bracelet.

"Very fascinating," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He crouched to take a closer look. I stepped back but he gripped my leg tightly. My heart began to race. "What are you doing?"

He dropped my notepad on the floor and unclipped my ankle bracelet against my protest. He stood back up, the shiny charm in his hand. He seemed mesmerized. So much so that it caught my attention.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"Family heirloom," I stated flatly, snatching it from him. "Why? Planning on filching it later and taking it to the pawn shop."

He didn't even bother giving me a snide remark back. I bent down to put it back on but he gripped my shoulders and made me face him.

"What is the matter with you today?" I hissed.

He looked me dead in the eye. "You want me."

"Excuse me?"

"You want me," he repeated.

I sputtered on my laugh. "Are you sure you're alright, vato? You're acting ..." My brain somehow disconnected. I forgot what I wanted to say. I forgot everything as I gazed into his eyes. They were so blue, reminding me of the ocean. I felt myself drowning, deeper and deeper and my body felt heavy. He cupped my face, brought his closer till I could feel his breath on my lips.

I wanted to break free. I knew it was wrong but it was as if I was suddenly paralyzed all over. Damon Salvatore bombarded all my senses. His touch. His scent. His existence. And it came down to one simple,universal fact; I wanted him.

Damon smirked before closing the gap and kissing me.

And I kissed him back.

And we were both kissing each other in my room.

His free hand went to my hair, untangling it and running his fingers through the curls. I, too, ran my hands through his silky black hair. When we pulled for air, I stood there in shock. My mind was a mess, screaming at me for how stupid I was being. But I didn't care.

I wanted Damon Salvatore.

I felt his cool hands on my cheeks, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

"See," he said breathless, chest heaving. "I told you you wanted me. Wanted me bad too, huh." He chuckled to himself. "Ah, I like this side of you. Wild, fierce." His lips ghosted over my jawline before stopping at my ear. "Untameable."

Just as suddenly, he sobered and lifted my chin up."As much as I would want you to recall this while you're in bed, you'll forget it. All of it."

The outside world suddenly faded away, and I was transported to a little empty place in my head, full of old memories, whizzing past me at MTV speed in technicolor and perfect audio. I closed eyes to make sense of the faces and places, feeling as if the whole world had fallen of it's axis.

When I opened my eyes, I'm standing in my room, alone with my bracelet and immense sense of loss.

"What took you so long?"

West was standing at the doorway, pulling the lid off the ice-cream.

"What?"

"You disappeared for almost half an hour." He looked at me closely. "Are you okay? You're pale."

I opened my mouth to deny but I couldn't.

No, I wasn't fine.

* * *

**A/N:** Holy smokes! That was unexpected! Not what I had in mind but then Charlie and Damon decided for themselves that they wanted to have some early action and who am I to deny them that. But I could however make one of them forget. *Laughs evilly*

**Reviews and constructive criticism much appreciated.**

**xoxoxoxoxoxo**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** If I owned TVD, bad ass Damon would not be pining away for Elena but having an equally bad ass partner in crime who'd love for him for who he truly is. I only own my OCs.

* * *

**The difference between fiction and reality? Fiction has to make sense." - ****Tom Clancy**

"What the hell is West doing?" Caroline shouts at me over the loud music. I'm nursing my third punch of the night. I glance at the dance floor. Among the many horny teens at Mystic High dance, I see West and a blond bimbo I'm certain I've seen around, grinding on each other, an expression of pure bliss painted on West's face.

Boy's gonna get lucky tonight.

"Uh..dancing? Is it some sort of trick question?" I shout back.

She rolls her eyes. "I can see that! But what's he doing dancing with _her!_"

Curious, I ask, "What's wrong her?"

"Besides the fact that she's not you, Sophie is pretty much a slut."

"Ouch. That's harsh, Forbes. I thought you cheerleaders stuck up for each other. Solidarity. You know, GO T-E-A-M and pom poms."

She smacks me on the shoulder. Hard. "Slutty Sophie might be a cheerleader but she's the president of the local Slut Squad. And anyway, you still didn't explain the part where you're not her."

I laugh. "Didn't you just say she was a member of the Slut Squad? Why would you want me to be her?"

Caroline waves her hands towards the aforementioned couple who were pretty much having sex while still clothed. I avert my eyes before I get sick and flit over the rest of the gym that had been redecorated to look like the fifties by yours truly Caroline and whoever she managed to bully. Stefan and Elena too seem to be having the time of their lives. Apparently Stefan's blast from the past isn't a worry anymore. I spot familiar faces all around and silently wonder just what the hell I was doing here?

Well, I know what I'm doing here. Caroline bullied me into it. And Elena and Bonnie were her muscle. And West gave me those puppy eyes of his I simply couldn't resist. So here I am, in a bright polka-dotted swing dress a la _Mad Men_, with hair that had been burned and pulled with Medieval looking torture tools that Caroline worked like a boss.

All in all, when Stefan, Matt and West saw the end result, they _swooned_. I'm sure they were exaggerating. But I did have to send away a lot drunk guy who hit me up with pathetic pick-up lines. The only reason I'm here is to get the gang off my case.

They all seemed to have designed this elaborate plan where none of them were willing to leave me alone with my thoughts. It's either shopping, sleep-over, some party or get-together at the Grill. And I know they mean well. For all my acting, I'm sure they noticed me wallowing in my despair. Mom has been out of reach for two whole weeks. Not a single word from her. It was driving me crazy.

"I don't want you to be _her_ obviously," Caroline yells at me over Elvis Presley's voice. "What I mean is that, the slut is snagging your man and you're here, indifferent and drinking your punch coolly."

I choke. The drink goes down the wrong track, burning my throat and the back of my eyeballs. A fit of cough racks my entire body making it harder to be breathe. I glare at her accusingly.

"What the hell! Why would you say something so messed up?"

Caroline shrugs and defensively says,"What?'"

"There's nothing going on between West and I. We're just friends."

"Oh, yeah. _Riiiiight_. In case you weren't aware, West Dylan was _the_ hottest boy before Stefan came around with his dark and handsome brooding ways. Every girl would kill for him. I even had some fantasies of him myself." She closes her dreamily.

"Okay. Stop. For real. Before I barf all over your outfit."

She turns serious. "But honestly, you're telling me that all those times you two were hanging out, you were doing just that. Hanging out."

"Yeah. Hanging out. Having fun. Doing project for the papers. Watching movies and commenting on the crappy dialogues and even crappier acting. We do that a lot," I tell her. "It's fun. You should really try it sometime."

"Alright, miss smarty pants." She smiles. "What I'm trying to say is, I want you-_ we all_ -want you to have a good time. Okay? Snap outta this misery you're in." Someone catches her eye and her breath hitches up. I follow her gaze and lo and behold, it's Damon Salvatore in all his black glory!

"Ugh!" she groans. "What is he doing here?"

I grab her elbow and pull her closer. "What's the deal with him?" I ask her. "And why do you hate him so much?"

"Well, maybe 'coz he's a jerk," she spits vehemently. I watch him dirty dance with a member of the Slut Squad. "Really? To me he seems like just another Tyler Lockwood."

"Yeah, he is. Only way hotter and thousand times jerkier!"

"I... I don't think that's a word, Care," I say slowly.

"Well, it should be. It would be very fitting for him."

"That bad, huh?"

"Take my word for it. I dated him for awhile. Remember the time I tol' you about the psychotic manipulative S.O.B I was with." I recall my first day of school and nod. "It was Damon."

I stand there, my mind processing her words. The odd thing is that, I can't seem to get past the fact that Caroline and Damon actually dated before.

It must be the punch. It has definitely been spiked. Or maybe I'm going crazy. Because the image of the two of them kissing and holding each other makes my stomach twist and turn. I make a mental note to check myself in the mental hospital.

Deciding that I don't want to hear another detail between those two, I change the course of the questions. "And what's up with him and Stefan?"

That earns me an eye roll. "Oldest story in the book." When I arch my eyebrow, she explains. "Basically it's boy meets girl. Girl meets boy. Boy likes girl, girl likes boy's brother. Girl plays brothers. Girl dies and boys vow to kill each other."

"Wait. You're saying Stefan and Damon liked the same girl."  
"Yep. And _loved_, not liked. She was this psycho bitch who played both of them real bad. According to Elena, this is the reason why Damon is the way he is."  
"You mean, snarky and generally a bad boy."

Caroline grabs my cup and downs the drink one go. "All this talk about the Salvatore drama is making me thirsty. Let's forget about it, okay. C'mon, dance with me."

She grabs my hand and pulls me but I pull her back.

"Not until you finish what you were saying?"

"There's nothing to say. Katherine was a bitch. Damon is an asshole and Stefan managed to move on and is happy with Elena. End of story."

I yank her back when she drifts off again. "Not yet. What about Elena and Damon? What's going on between them?"

"What? There's something going on? What?"

I sigh in exasperation. " Don't you think, for a bad guy, Damon is really close to his brother's girlfriend. You'd think he is plotting to - I don't know- steal her from Stefan to get back at him."

She seems thoughtful, considering it. "I thought about it once too. But if you hang around Elena and Stefan, you can tell that there's no other. They really love each other."

She is right. You'd have to be blind not to see that. I let go of her.

"Of course, it's possible that Damon simply likes being around Elena coz she reminds him of Katherine," she says as an afterthought.

"Katherine? How?"

"Elena once tol' me that her resemblance to Katherine is almost uncanny."

When I turn to the dance-floor, Damon has Elena by the waist and she's laughing at something he's saying. Stefan's no where in sight. Was history repeating itself? First with psycho bitch Kathrine and now Elena.

I let out a low whistle. "That's some drama."

"I tol' you so," she chirps.

When Matt who's her date, asks for a dance she leaves reluctantly. I assure her that I'd be fine. With nothing to do, I make my way back to the punch table. Mr. Saltzman was the chaperoning.

"And this would be - what- the fifth time you came by here tonight?" he says when I hand him my cup.

"School dances aren't my thing," I admit.

He smiles. "I kinda figured that after the third punch. So what is it? Friends payed you to come?"

"More like stripped me off my free will and shoved me in the trunk."

"Some viscious friends."

"The best kind." I take a sip when he hands me back the cup. "You're very familiar with the town's history, right?"

He nods, crosses his arms and gives me his full attention. I trace the rim of the red plastic cup with my finger. "So you know how the town was founded in 1860s, after the war and the founding families and the whole thing." I glance up at underneath my bangs. "You wouldn't happen to have some books or articles that date that far back?"

"Why? Did you find something about your family?"

I nod. "I'm a direct descendant of the Morrison clan. And I was hoping to get to know more about my family's history."

He glances around, leans forward and drops his voice. "Don't tell anyone ...but I just happen to know someone who does in fact have journals that date back that far." He straightens as if he recalled something. "And I'm sure the name Morrison had been mentioned quite a few times." He squints, concentrating hard. "Fredrick or something. It started with an F."

"Franklin," I suggest.

"Yes. That's it. Franklin Morrison. He was on the council. Apparently played a huge role in winning the war."

"So this journal..."

"Oh yes. The journal." Two students come over asking for refills. He waits until they are gone before saying, "It belongs to one of my students. But I can ask him to lend it to you."

I smile, grateful. "Thanks, Mr.S. You're awesome."

"Does that mean I get the best teacher of the year award?"

"Maybe if you cut back on the assignments."

He laughs and abruptly drops it. "Not a chance."

I bang the table in mock defeat. "Aw, man, that just sucks!"

A piercing shriek cuts through the air, almost as loud as the music. A girl in white dress had crashed through the door. She's on the floor, mumbling incoherently. dashes to her and I follow. People are surrounding her, making a circle.

Voices talk over each other. I get the gist of it.

Someone was attacked.

Here, at school.

Without giving it a second thought, I rush out the door and sprint down the hallway in my five inch heels. When I burst out the building, the squad car has already arrived and they are sealing off the scene.

I had flashback to three weeks ago when it was me who found the body. I push around the forming crowd and make it to the front. I realize I know this person. Ryan, on the football team. I played against him at pool once. Kicked his ass good, too.

And now he is dead.

Killed exactly like the rest of them.

Other officers arrive and push people away from the crime scene. Most of the girls are crying, his teammates too. And suddenly I remember him. West. I search for his face among the crowd. I spot him opposite to me, face pale and jaw clenched tightly.

I make my way over to him and without a word hug him. He stiffens, but after awhile wraps his arms around me tightly.

No words are needed.

We stay like that, until sheriff Forbes, who I learn is Caroline's mother, sends everyone away. West and I remain, watching as she and the medical examiner check out Ryan's corpse. Damon is there too, behind the yellow tape, crouched in front of the body.

"Some consultant," West comments, his voice raspy.

I chuckle humorlessly. "I wonder what he brings to the plate."

"We were supposed to throw a party this weekend." I glance up at West. He's fighting back tears. "Earlier tonight, he was being an ass, you know. Typical Ryan stuff. Loud, frisky and an all around pain. Then he kept talking about this bombshell of a woman he met." He laughed softly. "Said he was definitely get lucky so he ditched the party for her."

"West," I say breathless. My mind is racing. "Who and where is that woman?"

He shrugs. "I only caught her on her way out. Didn't notice much besides the fact the she really was a bombshell. At least from behind."

"White, black? Blond, brunette?Short,tall? Gimme something!" I can feel the adrenaline building up in my nervous system.

"Definitely white. Blond hair, sorta," he twirls his hands over his own hair. "Curly. Not like your natural curls. Like she had 'em done. I'd put her around Elena's height."

They are loading up Ryan's body. "Quick, did Ryan mention a name? What she does? If she goes to Mystic High? Anything you might have over-looked."

West frowns. I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. Suddenly, he lit up. "I remember something. Earlier in the week, after practice, he kept bragging about her in the locker room. I think he said she was just passing through Mystic Falls."

"So she doesn't live here?"

"Apparently."

The van drives off and Sheriff and Damon are by the police cruiser, both in a heated argument.

"Wait!" West stops me as I make a move towards them. "You don't think that the girl had something to do with this, do you?"

I drop my voice. "No. But one of the first rules in investigation, you leave nothing out. And I've a theory. I'm gonna check it out now."

Reluctantly, he loosens his grip on my arm and nods. "Be careful."

I flash him my best smile. "I have a taser, remember?"

I slowly approach the police car. They instantly drop their conversation.

"Hello Charlie," Damon says, his eyes taking in my appearance. "You looking ravishing tonight."

I ignore him. "So what was it?" I ask the Sheriff. "Murder? Or an animal attack?"

"Definitely an animal attack."

"Same animal?"

She falters, glances at Damon. "We won't know for sure until the autopsy is done but yes, we think it's the same animal."

"Is there any point in these questions?" Damon wants to know.

I fix him with a glare. " What do you think, _consultant_?"

"I think," He steps closer, towering over me. Sheriff hisses his name but he ignores her. "that you should run along now. Your boyfriend seems crushed. Go and comfort him and leave this for the grown ups."

I hold his gaze, hard. Then he grins and says, "Of course, I also think that pink suits you."

"Enough Damon," Sheriff Forbes says in a tight voice. "Charlie, why don't you go home. It's late. Damon, you're coming with me to the station." She walks around the car and opens the door. "Good night Charlie. And stay safe."

Damon reaches out and takes a curl in his finger. "If you're that bored with your life, Shortie, I can gladly entertain you. All you need to do is ask."

I flush and I want to seriously kick myself for trembling at the thought of what a night with Damon would entail. I feel his finger on my cheek, cold, light and lingering. I step back, creating a safe distance between us, lest I lose control and do something really stupid. Like kiss him or worse, take him up on his offer.

"Did you know that Ryan was last seen out here with a blond woman,"

Damon shrugs but I can tell I've his full attention. "So?Could be he came out in hopes of getting some." His eyes twinkle.

"Don't you think it's worth checking it out?"

"You got a name?"

"No."

"Facial description?"

"No."

"Then what _do_ you have, Shortie?"

"Isn't it your job to figure out how to connect the dots?"

"Well, you seem to be doing a very good job for us."

We've another staring contest. The Sheriff horns her car. West moves towards us.

"So are you going to track her down?" I ask.

"She isn't a suspect," he says. "The kid got attacked by an animal. She's of no use."

"_Damon!" _ He raises his hand in the Sheriff's direction. "I'm coming, Liz. Don't get your panties in a bunch." He turns to me and gives me a not so subtle once-over before walking away.

"What the hell was that about?" West wants to know.

We watch him get in his car and drive off, Sheriff Forbes following him. Suddenly I feel cold, and I realize I've nothing on but my dress. I hug myself.

"Just Damon being Damon."

West isn't convinced. "Are sure there's nothing going on between you two?"

I give him my best death-glare. "Yeah. We had monkey sex. Last week. At the Grill."

"You don't have to be a bitch about it," he grumbles.

"And you don't have to be stupid."

"Whatever." And after a beat, "So how's your theory going?"

Pretty good. They just proved to me that they had no interest in carrying a full and proper investigation. As far as they are concerned, this was a simple open and shut case. Damon made that very clear. So if they know the thing responsible for it, why weren't the streets crawling with animal patrol? Why hasn't this thing been caught for the all these months? And the million dollar question, what were they hiding?

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**A/N:** So things are getting very heated. I feel like the story isn't complete with only Charlie's POV. Because Damon is as much of a main character as Charlie and he's been nagging me day in and day out to share his side of the story. Let me know if you guys are willing to hear it. Feedback needed.

**Reviews and constructive criticism appreciated.**

**xoxoxoxoxo**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I wish I owned Damon Salvatore. I'd do all sorts of naughty things with him. You know _you_ would!

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_**"A guy and a girl can be just friends, but at one point or another, they will fall for each other...Maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever" - Dave Matthews Band**_  
_**  
**_

Damon shut the door to the board house and strolled into the living room. He tossed his leather jacket across a chair-back and made a bee-line to the liquor cabinet. He was in the middle of fixing himself a snifter of cognac when Stefan and Elena entered the room. He glanced at his brother sideways. Stefan was eyeing him distrustfully. "What are you up to Damon?"

"Hello to you too, brother." He threw himself down on an armchair.

"What are you up to,Damon?" Stefan asked again.

Ignoring him, Damon turned to Elena. "Question. What would you do if I decided to rip out your newest friend's pretty little throat?"

Elena flinched as if he had physically slapped her. He savored her reaction.

Stefan was in front of him in a flash, all broody and moral.

"You stay away from her, Damon," he growled.

Damon smirked. "Impressive, baby bro. But you need to work on the eyes. Squint them a little harder. Here, let me show you- "

Stefan's hand shot out to his throat. Damon felt his oxygen supply cutting off. He conceded.

"Alright, alright." He raised his free hand. "It was just a joke." When Stefan let go, he messaged the spot but he couldn't resist adding, "Although, I dunno how long I keep playing your equally moral side-kick. That girl's got some serious snooping skills. I think she's convinced herself she's the second coming of Nancy Drew." He sighed. "Only shorter. And way hotter." He shot a cheeky grin to Elena who rolled her eyes.

"Just, please, Damon. Let her be," she pleaded.

He took a sip of his drink, relishing the familiar burning sensation as it went down. Absent- minded, he played with the ring on his finger.

It was true. He had absolutely no idea whatsoever on how to deal with her. No diabolic plans for keeping the short, insane private eye wannabe in line. And since snapping her long and rather elegant and tasty looking neck wasn't an option, he had to settle for the oldest trick in the Bad-ass Vampire Book:_ intimidation_.

And that wasn't working so well for him.

Damon wasn't sure if she was either dumb or brave. But then again, there was a fine line between those two. Very fine, very thin. He should know.

He gazed at Elena, at her long brown hair, at her dark eyes and beautiful face. She was exactly like Kathrine and yet nothing like her. It was that quality that had attracted him to her.

He smiled at her. "Only because you begged," he said and wiggled his eyebrows. She plopped down on the couch and sighed in relief.

"What did you mean when you said she was snooping?" Stefan wanted to know. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, face permanently set on royally bored.

He downed his glass in one go. "She's been doing some amateur sleuthing for extra credits. Apparently she's writing articles for the school paper but she keeps turning up wherever there's a dead body. It's like she's got this radar for all things _vampy_."

Elena moved to the edge of her seat. "Wait, she's been investigating on the vampire attacks." Damon nodded. "But she tol' me it was a club project."

"Well, that means she has been lying to you." He made a face. "What a shocker. Must sting like a bitch,huh. Your friend keeping things from you."

"This has stop." It was Stefan who began pacing. "Ever since the tomb's been opened, the place has been crawling with vampires. We need to speak with Pearl. Tell her to move out of here."

"Good luck thwarting their plans, baby bro. But they are _dead_ serious - pun intended- in taking back what they think is rightfully theirs."

"What?" Elena glanced between the two of them. "What? What do they want?"

Stefan sighed. "They want Mystic Falls."

"But why?"

"Maybe 'coz the Founding families killed,maimed and stuck them in a tomb for over a century," Damon remarked. "That would turn even Mother Teresa into an ax-wielding lunatic hell-bent on vengeance."

They sat in silence in for a while. Stefan was drilling a hole on the hard-wood floor, Elena was staring into thin air in a catatonic state, reeling from the new piece of information she got and Damon feeling antsy and restless. He was wondering if he should just get a blood bag from the basement and conserve energy or go and hunt when his roaming eyes caught Elena's vervain filled necklace and a thought crossed his mind.

"Elena, you just don't happen to be roofing your new housemate with tiny doses of vervain, have you?"

She ran a hand through her hair and narrowed her eyes. "No. But thanks for the reminder."

"No need. She's already covered."

That caught the lovers' attention. Stefan moved closer to him.

"How would you know that?" he asked, voice tight.

"Trial and error." Damon stood up and placed a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "And before you go all King Arthur-_ey_ on me, you might wanna know that I haven't actually _hurt_ her." He cocked his head to the side. "Except made her forget the most awesome kiss of her life."

"Damon!" Elena cried, horrified.

"If there's any consolation, she seemed very into it."

"You compelled her to kiss you!"

"Actually, I compelled her to want me, _then_ compelled her to forget about it." He showed them his hands as he backed out of the room. "What's that line some wise guy once said? All's well that ends well,right? We had fun, she doesn't remember and I found out something interesting." He spun on his heels, but stopped when he passed by Elena. "Oh, and don't bother with the vervain. She's always wearing it on her person. Specifically on her ankle. That's connected to show stopping legs, just so you know."

"You're a dick." She threw a push pillow at him. Laughing, he dodged it and breezed out of the room and out the front door.

Surprisingly, his feet had taken him to the Gilbert's backyard with no thought of on his part. He was sitting on the bark of an oak tree that gave him the clear view of the latest nuisance in his life. She was getting ready for bed, dressed in boy shorts and a thin white tank top. He felt the muscles in his mouth stretch into a smile. She pulled back the covers of her bed, crawled in and grabbed her phone. She dialed a number, Damon could hear the beeping with each button she pressed. The call went straight to voice-mail. Charlie's heart rate accelerated.

"Mom," she croaked. "What the fuck! Seriously! It's been two weeks. If you can hear this, and you're ignoring me on purpose, I swear to God, I'll never - "Damon heard her voice break off. "Anyways, If you're listening to this, I'm giving you one more week and then I'm dialing the emergency contact. I promise."

When she hung up, Damon watched her grit her teeth and press the balls of her hands to her eyes, fighting back tears. He could hear her inhaling and exhaling with effort and I feeling stirred inside him. One he hadn't felt for a very long time.

Pity.

Damon Salvatore sat on that branch till every porch light on the street went off and the tear tracks on her cheeks were dry before coming back to his senses and rushing out there, seriously rethinking his mental state.

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**A/N:** So this was by far my shortest chapter. I think. More like an experiment. I think it turned out pretty well but I need your opinion on Damon's piece. I hope I portrayed him right. Last thing I want is for one of my characters turning very OOC. Let me know!

**As always, reviews and constructive criticisms are appreciated.**

**xoxoxoxo**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I only own my OCs. And I think they kick ass with the best of them.

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I don't get why we can't meet up at your place," West remarked as he pulled a chair for me. "Or mine for that matter."

I placed my duffel-bag carefully on the ground. West eyed it curiously. "Because, I don't want anyone to over hear us."

He gestured at the local cafe with hands. "No one we actually know," I clarified. He handed me a cup of coffee. I opened the lid and took a long of sniff, already feeling it hit every nerve-endings and kick-starting my brain.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. So what's the deal?"

I scooted closer to the edge of the chair and pinned him with a dead serious look. "How about launching our own investigation?"

West eyebrows shot up, he opened his mouth, then shut it, opened again and let out a loud sigh. "You're being serious," he stated.

"Of course I'm."

"Charlie, all we've been doing the past two weeks was investigate," he said the last word with a sarcastic undertone. "And we got nothing. I hate to say it but maybe we're in over our heads."

I was expecting this. I've dealt with it before with some of my mother's clientele. They all sat there, staring at me in disbelief, probably thinking I was a twelve year old.

"I know." I leaned in closer. "I get it. But this time around, we'll seriously investigate."  
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. I nudged the duffel-bag with my foot and he glanced at it. "Take a look," I urged him. "C'mon. You know you want to."

Suspicious, he grabbed it and yanked it open. I sat back on the chair, reading his expression. He went through five different emotions in three seconds flat. He settled on tongue-tied. I laughed.

"Now do you take me serious?"

West reached into the bag eagerly, like a kid on Christmas eve. He pulled out my secret stash of spy gadgets. Two stun guns, audio surveillance equipment, bugs, binocular, cameras concealed as pen and wrist watches, flashlights and my all time favorite, cellular jammers. West was speechless, staring at the gadgets with mesmerized awe. A waitress who passed by eyed our table with barely concealed interest and I shoved them all back into the duffel bag. That snapped West out of his trance.

"Where the hell did you get that from?"

"My mom's a PI, remember?"

"I know that. But are those yours? Like yours yours, not borrowing from your mom yours."

I tilted my head to side. "Well, it's for official use. You know, for an actual case and she lets me use them."

"Oh my, God. You stole them, didn't you." He sat up, slapping the table. "Your mother doesn't know about it."

I scoffed. "I_ borrowed_, not stole. Stealing implies permanence."

"Borrowed, stole, same shit, different semantics."

"Exactly. So can we get back to the part were I was convincing you to carry on with the investigation."

It took less than five seconds for him to put two and two together.

"Wait a sec, here! You're not planning on using those on _them._"

"Once I've figured out the identities of most of _them_, yes. That's what I'm planning on doing."

"You're insane."  
"I've heard that a lot," I admitted.

"That's because you _are_ insane!" he yelled. When heads turned, he lowered his voice a notch. "Who in their right mind thinks of bugging the police department."

"Actually, I wanna bug the sheriff's office."

He wagged his head back and forth as if he could shake the words out of his brain. "I'm not doing this. This is a felony."

"Only if we get caught, it is," I pointed out. "All one of us has to do is get inside the office, leave a pen in her pen holder and she won't know the difference."

He considered that for a moment. "You make it sound so easy."  
"That's coz it is. I've done this so many times I've lost count."

"So what, after we bug the office, he listen in on their conversation, _all_ the time."

I shook my head. "The bugs aren't just transmitters, they record too. So you can download it on your Ipod, put in your headphones and voila, no one would know."

West drummed his fingers on the table top, a nervous habit. "I don't know, Charlie. This is ...screwed up."

I could tell he was conflicted, a natural reaction. But if he knew the list people I was planning on bugging, he'd get a migraine.

I patted his hand condescendingly. "Fear not, my friend. This will be a cakewalk."

Droplets of sweat were glistening on his forehead. He was nervous. Or maybe it was the humid weather that made my hair frizzy. Or maybe both. My parents believed that they had raised me right, so did I. But a few people thought otherwise. They were convinced that I had a bad influence on their children. Using my bangs as a shield, I watched my best friend bite into his croissant. West Dylan, line backer of the Timberwolves, popular, nice and now, my partner in crime. If things went wrong and shit hit the fan, he could be charged with espionage and called guilty by association. I chastised myself for being negative.

_Nothing's going to go wrong. You could do this in your sleep._

That was true. But I've never had a partner. I never the felt the burden of responsibility. And now I've to.

When West caught my eye, he smiled freely, easily. That smile that forced me to let my guard down. An uneasy feeling spread to my stomach, making me lose my appetite. Guilt. An emotion I've only learnt of when I moved to this God forsaken town. I was using and endangering my best friend.

I'm a bitch like that.

"I'm home," Jenna called out. "Elena, Jeremy, Charlie."

"In here," I yelled from my position in front of the oven."Those two aren't home yet!"

She walked in, took a deep breath. "Wow, something smells delicious." She opened the fridge and took out a bottled water.

"I'm making brownies," I told her. "For Mrs. Lockwood ."

She arched an eyebrow. "The mayor's wife?"

"One and only. She was mom's best friend. I think I told you that before."

Apprehension dawned on her face. "Ah, I remember." She took a swing from the bottle. "Any special occasion."

I hopped on the counter and swung my legs. "Not really. Just thought it was time I stopped dodging her invitations for dinner week after week and dropping in announced with some home made brownies."

Jenna pointed a finger at me. "Quite clever, you little impish you. Then you won't have to feel obliged to attend any dinner at all."

"It's like you read my mind, Jenna."

"Any word on your mother?" she asked after a beat. She busied herself by taking out the ingredients for dinner.

"Nothing yet."

"I pray nothing's happened to her." She turned to me and placed the salad bowl on the counter before approaching me. I was fighting the anxiety that always emerged when I thought of mom. Did she lose her cellphone? Did she lose my number? Did she get hurt or lost or... My mind always wandered off to dark places where I torture myself with the worst case scenarios. And sometimes, behind the locked door of my room, when no one's around, I allow myself to cry. Just for a while, to grieve their absence. And the possibility that I've lost them forever.

"Hey." Jenna rubbed my arm tenderly. "Hey, look at me, Charlie. Look at me." I raised my head, steeling myself. Her brown eyes were soft and her smile comforting. "Whatever happens, you have me, okay. You always had me, ever since you first blinked those beautiful green eyes of yours and looked at me with awe and wonder." She laughed and teared up. I did too, cursing myself for being so emotional. "So through whenever and whatever, you know I'll be here for you, just like I'd be here for Elena and Jeremy."

I hugged her tightly and she rocked our bodies in a comforting rhythm.

I'm not a particularly deep or introspective person, but everyone has their moments. Most of us take the relationships we have for granted, me being the front runner in this category of people. But there's nothing wrong with pressing pause once in a while, to stop and take in all the colors and savor them. And I was determined to do that more often from here on out because for the first time in my life, I had people that I actually cared about other than my parents.

But first, I had work to do that couldn't wait.

Carol Lockwood was genuinely surprised and happy when I showed up at her doorstep with the brownies. Tyler Lockwood was royally pissed off and suspicious. He eyed the stuff as if he expected worms to wiggle out of them. He sat right across from me, dressed in his full practice regalia. He didn't touch them, just gave me a droll stare. I ignored his expressions and feigned innocence and asked how the Timberwolves were doing this season and whether he studied for the physics quiz that was right around the corner. I even offered to tutor him which Carol thought was just splendid. We discussed school, my childhood, my mother, my future, the upcoming Founder's Day ball that Carol was hosting and everything under the sun. When one of the helpers announced that Mayor Lockwood arrived, Carol excused herself with careful instructions to Tyler to behave.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Tyler asked, "What are you up to, Sanders?"

I widened my eyes and blinked innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about?"

He scoffed. "Sure you don't. Brownies, making asinine conversation with my mother. Coming to my house."

"If you're worried that I'll taser you, don't. It's all in the past now. Ripped it outta my journal and burned it. A clean slate."

"Are you mocking me?"

"I'm not." I rolled my eyes. "I swear. Let bygones be bygones. Whatever other cliche you can think of." I carefully schooled my face to remain blank. "We got off on the wrong foot. Here," I extended my hand and he stared at it. "I'm Charlie Sanders, new girl in town. Nice to meet you."

Hesitantly, he took it in his hand. It was big, strong and calloused. "I hope you're not playing with me here, Sanders."

"I'll forget you being an ass if you forget I tasered you."

He held my gaze for a long time. I'm pretty sure an internal war was waging in his head. "Fine," he stated. "All in the past."

I gave him my best smile. "All in the past."

Tyler sat back, sinking deeper into the cushion and crossing his arms. "Now, tell me what you're really doing here."

This time, I didn't bother to play dumb, even jocks have some sort of brain function. Fortunately, I didn't have to lie.

"I'm here because I've skipped out on your mother's invitations for over a week. Did you know that our mother's were best of friends and that our families had been pretty close for over a millennium. Crazy, right?"

He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, mom told me about it."

"You know, if this was in the early nineteen hundreds, we would probably be engaged to each other, making mini Lockwood/Morrisons."

Tyler flushed. "Yeah. Probably." He glanced around the parlor nervously before getting to his feet. "Hey, you want something to drink."

A smile. "Water would be great."

He smiled back. "Sure. I'll go get it for you."

I waited for him to leave before getting to my feet and heading towards the winding staircase while keeping an eye out on anyone. I could hear Mrs. Lockwood talking with her husband from the garden. I had all of few minutes before Tyler returned and decided to look for me. I took the stairs two at a time. I wasn't even sure what I was looking place where the mayor had his deals go down. Possibly where the sheriff could come and inform of the attacks. As luck had it, I spotted the office right away. And it was open. I could hear footsteps from above.

_Move your ass_, I urged myself.

I dug into the pocket of my jeans to extract the bug. It was a generic black ball point pen disguising a tiny microchip of a bug. As soon as I entered, Tyler's voice floated up stairs, calling my name.

_Shit_.

My eyes darted around like crazy, taking in the entire office. Mayor Lockwood's pen holder only held three expensive looking fountain pens. Too obvious. I moved around the desk and opened drawer after drawer, trying to find the one with most clutter. The bottom drawer. I stuffed the pen in there and closed them all.

"Charlie!" Tyler's was getting close. I sprinted out of the office just as he stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"There you are," he said when he saw me.

The smile I gave him was joke to the nerves in my stomach. "I got lost trynna find the bathroom."

He studied me for a while. I tried to act as normal as possible.

"It's at the end of the hallway." He climbed up. "Here, let me show you."

Tyler glanced inside his father's office as if he suspected something.

"So," I began to distract him. "Do you think the Timberwolves will win the seasonal this year?"

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**A/N:** Somehow along the way, I totally forgot about Charlie's relation with Jenna and decided to include a little heart warming scene between them. I just love Jenna! She's awesome.

**As always, reviews and constructive criticism appreciated.**

**xoxoxoxo**


	11. Chapter 11

_****_**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything except for Charlie Sanders, her mother and best friend West Dylan. Everything else belong to L.J Smith and The CW.

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_**Don't forget that I cannot see myself - that my role is limited to being the one who looks in the mirror -Jacques Rigaut**_

I hate cemeteries. They freak me out. Something about how all these lifeless bodies buried together under the very ground you're standing on, rotting away, gives me the creeps.

I _hate_ cemeteries. And yes, I'd like to think of myself as a kick-ass individual, but truth of the matter is, I'm only thirty percent fearless. But I'm a pro when it comes to denial. Which is how I found myself at the town's grave yard, standing in front of the graves of the grandparents I've never known. Two freshly cut roses lay on the ground.

_Collin and Charlotte Morrison._

According to the news articles I've dug out, their house when up in flames and burned down almost immediately. The sheriff back then suspected foul play but had zero evidence or suspects and the case was filed of as a freak accident. My mother had been out partying with friends. Nothing could have been salvaged, not even their bodies.

I wonder how much pain they had to go through before they were put out of their misery. Were they still alive as the fire devoured their skin and flesh? Or did they die of smoke inhalation and choked to death? Which was the less painful way to go?

A big, crow landed swiftly on the tombstone. It flapped it's black wings, cocking it's head from side to side. I was either getting very paranoid or that bird had it's eyes on me.

"Whatcha staring at, buddy?" I glared at it. "Shoo! Get outta here! Flap your wings and disappear. This place is creepy as it is without you staring at me."

When it still didn't move, I made fluttery motions with my hand. It wouldn't budge. I stepped back and hugged myself when a chilly wind blew. I titled my head back, staring at the starless night sky. I've lost all sense of time while I stood here contemplating about my life, my grandparents and my AWOL parents. And I just realized how morbid it was.

A distant noise made my heart lurch and I almost jumped out of my skin.

_Calm down, chica. You're losing your mind._

When I turned back to the tombstone, the crow was gone. I let out a long breathe I didn't know I had been holding. I scooped up my curls and hang them over one shoulder, picked up my purse from the ground and extracted my taser to shove it in my jacket pocket.

_Better safe than sorry. _

My life motto.

My CAT boots made loud noises as it crunched the pebbles and twigs. The sound carried and got swallowed by the dark. It was eerily quite, a sense foreboding danger lurking around the corner. Every hair in the back of my neck stuck up. I took longer strides and quickened my pace. I needed to get out this place before I scared myself to death.

My heart rate slowed down when I neared the gate then ricocheted sky high when a fog blanketed the ground out of the blue. I almost tripped over my own feet in shock.

_That was not there a moment ago_, the small, scared voice supplied from the back of my mind.

A strangled laugh escaped my throat and I clamped a hand over my mouth before I got hysterical. A screeching noise cut through the air and instinctively reached for the taser. The fog kept floating forward, enveloping everything at it's wake.

_Caw, caw,caw_.

My eyes darted around, trying to find where the damn crow was screeching from.

_Snap._

Freaking out, I spun on my heels, ready to bolt back to the direction I came from. Maybe there was a side gate or a low wall I could jump over.

_Or maybe you're just projecting your fears and nothing is happening._

Before I even got anywhere, I collided with a something solid and I let out a yelp, whipping my taser out.

"Where's the fire?"

"Jesus," I breathed , when I recognized the person in front of me.

"Nope," Damon said with a cocky grin. "Even better, me."

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing?"

He regarded me as if I was mentally challenged. And who could blame him, I looked crazy with wide eyes and sweating in the cold.

I put my taser back in my pocket. He had a small, strange smile on his lips. "What?" I snapped defensively, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Oh nothing. It's just, you carry that stun gun around as if it's gonna save you from the real boogeyman. It's cute."

I narrowed my eyes. "I can tell when a person is being condescending, Salvatore."

He glanced around, as if he just realized were he was standing.

"I gotta say," he began as I started for the gate. The strange fog had cleared. "I didn't peg you for the melancholic-walking-through-the-graves type of gal."

He fell into step with me. "Did you notice how often we keep bumping into each other?"

"No. Not really," I lied. I wasn't in the mood, Damon or not.

"Quite the little fibber you are. Should I get worried, Shortie? 'Coz I'm certain that you're stalking me. What's next, gonna leave me silent voice mails?"

I faced him. "You're so hilarious, Damon. Really, I've got stitches from laughing so hard. You should take your show to the road, see how the public will like it."

His ever present grin broadened. "Touchy. Most be the atmosphere."

I gave him my back and opened the french gate and stepped out the world of the dead and hurriedly walked down the sidewalk. I took a deep breath, trying dispel any residual fear.

_What the hell was that about?_

Damon didn't have any problem keeping up.

"So who were you visiting?" he asked.

"Why do you care?"

He shrugged. "Simple curiosity."

I couldn't help but crack a smile, recalling the night he drove me home. "My grandparents," I told him, hoping it would shut him up.

"Your grandparents are from Mystic Falls."

I nodded. "Yep. Maternal grandparents. They were a Founding Family."

His eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yeah. The Morrisons."

It was quick, the flitting expression. If the street light wasn't illuminating his face, I'd have totally missed it. At the mention of their name, Damon's eyes hardened and his back went stiff. But he covered it up with one of his famous smirks.

"I've heard of them."

"You make it seem as if it's a bad thing," I stated, gauging his reaction.

He let out a small chuckle. "Oh, on the contrary, it's a _great_ thing. Just when we thought the family went extinct, you spring up outta nowhere."

I frowned. I wasn't entirely comfortable with his tone, taunting, almost hostile.

"Something wrong, Damon?"

His blue eyes studied me. "No. Everything's peachy."

We walked in silence after that, our boots slapping against the concrete.

Different warnings from different people kept running through my mind.

_Damon's a jerk. _

_Damon doesn't _care.

_Damon's dangerous._

_Damon wouldn't think twice of hurting someone just coz he can._

I sneaked a glance at him, yet again mesmerized by his dazzling beauty. Could someone so good-looking be so...I didn't even have a word to describe it. Without brushing aside what the other's said, Damon hasn't done anything remotely threatening. Sure he was cocky and had a seemingly never ending arsenal of witty one-liners, but that's what personality means, isn't it? Damon Salvatore is a character...or has a character or whatever.

"You know," he said, bringing me out of my thoughts. "If you take a photo, it will last longer."

My cheeks burned in embarrassment. I cleared my throat. "So what were you doing back there?"

We were at the town square, my house two blocks away.

"Paying my respect," Damon replied, nonchalantly.

"To whom... if I may ask."

"My old man."

"When did he die?"

"A pre-_tty_ long time ago."

"Ah."

"Not going to ask about my mother?"

"Dare I?"

He smiled, eyes twinkling. "Why don't you try? I promise not to bite."

"So what about your mother?"

"She's dead."

I was too stunned to say anything. Damon let out a short bark of laughter and slung an arm around my shoulder. The sudden movement made me lose my balance and I collided against him.

"Lighten up, Shortie." I've long ago resigned to the nickname. "I don't even remember her. She died a few days after Stefan was born."

I looked up at him. "Was it hard, growing up without parents?"

"You ask the most personal questions."

I bit my lower lip. "I'm just trying to figure you out, is all."

"And why would you wanna do that?" he wanted to know.

"Because so far, since I've met you, everyone keep talkin' about how _bad_ and _dangerous_ you are and that I should stay away from you." I watched him stare straight ahead. "But I honestly don't think you're that bad."

Wordlessly, he dropped his arm and put some space between our bodies. There was a sense of loss, so familiar that it tugged at my heartstrings. I had to stop myself from closing the gap. What did I say that was so wrong?

"I'm s-sorry," I mumbled, perplexed by the sudden change in attitude. "I shouldn't have said anything."

He stopped walking and I faced him. "Why don't you go inside?" he suggested, motioning to the house with his head. I wasn't even aware that we've arrived.

I opened my mouth to...I don't know, apologize lamely once again but shut it before I made a fool out of myself any further. I backed away from him and waved with one hand.

"See ya around?"

Damon nodded, uncharacteristically sullen, before spinning on his heels and walking away without a word.

Feeling low in spirits, I let myself inside, ready to sneak upstairs.

I yelped like a girly-girl the second time in one night, but this time for a whole different reason.

"Whoa! Whoa!"

"You're early!"

I stared at the scene in front of me. Jenna with her shirt unbottoned, was straddling a person on the couch. When I caught the sight of the man's face, I had to blink several times and pinch myself to make sure I wasn't asleep and dreaming.

" Mr. Saltzman," I croaked.

He was bug-eyed with shock. "Charlie, what are you doing here?"

"I live here," I mumbled, my eyes going between the two of them. Jenna was red with embarrassment. She pulled her shirt together. "What are _you_ doing here?" I asked him back. He was shirtless, hair tousled and he closed his eyes, groaning. I cringed.

"On second thought, don't answer that."

"Charlie, I'm sorry. I should've told you about Ric."

I snapped myself out the absurdity of the situation. "It's fine. I uh...just weren't expecting...you know what, I could just leave and let you guys get back to -"

"Oh that won't be necessary," Mr. Saltzman cut me off, putting on his shirt and getting up. "I was on my -"

"No. Seriously. I can leave. Crash at Caroline's or something."

"No." He picked his bag, avoiding eye contact. "I shouldn't chase you out of your own house."

"Seriously, it's cool."

He walked around the couch and moved to the hallway, while he avoided catching my eye.

Jenna raised her hand. "Can I say something?"

We both shut up and turned to her.

"Charlie, go upstairs. There's no need for you to crash anywhere."

She turned to my history teacher who was eyeing the front door as if it was the gate to heaven. "And Ric, get your ass back here. You don't have to go."

"I agree, whole heartedly," I told him with a serious expression.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Just a little surprised but - "

"Upstairs. Now." Jenna shoved me towards the stairs and I raced them as if I had a flock of rabid geese at my tail. I wondered if putting on the stereo was too obvious. Probably. So I settled for my headphones and Ipod.

When I emerged from the bathroom after a long bath, I found a crow sitting on my window sill. The crow cocked it's head left and right, following me with eyes as I moved around the room.

"You the same one from the graveyard?" I asked the bird. "Why are you following me around? Got nothing better to do?"

I piled my hair to the top of my head and tied in a ponytail. The crow flapped it's wings. "Seriously buddy, I've got a big day ahead of me tomorrow. So why don't you go bother someone else." I fluttered my hands but it simply made a _caw, caw_ sound.

I laughed at myself. I must be really losing my mind if I was talking to a bird. I shut the window and jumped into bed.

The crow was still watching me. Goosebumps erupted on every inch of my skin. I got down and pulled the curtains close.

I fell asleep an hour later when it's silhouette spread it's wings and flew away, only to have Damon Salvatore feature in my dreams.

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**A/N: **I wanted Charlie and Damon to have at least one normal,_ civil_ conversation without sarcastic barbs or quips. And surprisingly, Damon came out as the more honest one. And I think it's high time that she learned that her godmother and history teacher are dating. This way it would be easier to blackmail Alaric. Poor guy. Quite a short chapter but I promise to make it up to you guys.

**Read and review.**

**xoxoxoxoxo**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I only own my OCs.

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_**"The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for - Bob Marley**_

The following morning, we had the most awkward breakfast ever. Elena was spacing out like she usually does. Jeremy was doing last minute homework and I played with my cheerios, my nerves shot. I barely got four hours in the rack with a certain blue-eyed bad boy starring in my dreams.

Mr. Saltzman walked into the kitchen with a bag of freshly baked donuts and coffee. He smiled at everyone at the table and moved to Jenna who was making pancakes. He pecked her on the cheek.

I couldn't resist the temptation. " ! Pulling the fake morning donuts run ploy, aren't you?"

Jeremy chuckled and Elena kicked my leg under the table. Mr. Saltzman shook his head, smiling. "Are you always this blunt?"

"Only when things are glaringly obvious."

He took a seat at the table. "Fair enough." He reached into the bag and pulled out a glazed donut. "Peace offering?"

I accepted it. "I like the way you think. But I warn ya, Mr. Saltzman, I'm cut throat when it comes to negotiations."

"What exactly happened for the two of you to be exchanging bribes?" Elena wanted to know.

"Nothing," Jenna cut me off and placed a plate of piled pancakes on the table. Jeremy arched his brows. "I think I get the picture," he mumbled, going back to his books.

For a while, all that could be heard was the clanking of china and silver ware. broke the silence. "Charlie, about the journal..." he laughed softly. "Remember I told you one of my students had it."

I nodded, chewing quickly.

"It's Jeremy. It's an old Gilbert journal."

Jeremy and I stared at each other.

"This town," I began. "Is _really_ small."

"True that," Mr. Saltzman agreed.

"Sometimes _too_ small."  
"Charlie," Jenna's voice was sharp but she was fighting off a smile.

"What? If I was back home, I'd not have never seen my god mother and history teacher cuddling on the couch last night. My eyes...they _burn_."

Elena snorted and Jeremy burst out laughing.

"I don't know if I should slap you or hug you," Jenna remarked, sighing.

I shrugged one shoulder. "I tend to do that to people." I turned to my teacher. "So, Mr. Saltzman..."

"After what you saw last night, I think you earned the right to call me Alaric."

"Okay, _Alaric_, since we're on first name basis, you wouldn't consider giving me an A on the assignment I handed in,whether it merits it or not."

He rolled his eyes, hard. "How can you handle her?" he asked his girlfriend.

"I have a lifetime of experience,remember. Her parents were my friends."

"Here's the deal, Charlie," he said. "I read your paper, it's a straight A so you don't have to _blackmail_ me to get it. You deserve an A. But, next time things get bumpy on the road, I'll remember I owe you one."

I laughed. "I think you just got cooler, Mr. S." I winked at him and got to my feet.

"You're done?" Elena asked.

"Hm. I gotta run. I promised to meet West at the library. Project."

I picked a red apple from the fruit basket and bit into it. Elena was watching me strangely. "Something the matter?"

She shook her head and offered a small smile. "Nothing. Just...I-I'll see ya later then."

She was hiding something. "Sure. Oh and Jer, can I borrow the journal."

His head shot up. "Yeah. Sure. I'll just leave it in your room."

"Catch ya guys later."

* * *

If I was a superstitious person, I'd swear this town was cursed. Ever since I came to Mystic Falls, it had been one tragedy after another. And let's forget about the animal attacks for a moment. In less than a year, Elena and Jeremy's parents died. Then Bonnie's Grams passed away and Bonnie fled town only to return acting different. She avoided everyone, but most of all Elena and Stefan. As if that wasn't crazy enough, Elena learns that she was adopted, and that her biological mother, Isobel, is by hearsay, an evil bitch. And now, West father who walked out on their family over a decade ago suddenly made an appearance, sending my friend's life in a tailspin.

West _despised_ his father and to lash out, he picked up drinking with the his teammates in the woods every other night. I've tried to be as supportive as I could. But I felt myself spreading out too thin. Damn this. My life was simpler before I got here. Nobody to worry and fuss over. No sense of responsibility or guilty conscious. Should I fret over Elena or Jeremy or Bonnie or West? Or should I take care of myself and worry about my mother who still hasn't contacted me?

I was two seconds away from tearing out my hair.

West wasn't at the library. I looked for him but after five minutes, gave up and headed to school. He was leaning against my locker, eyes bloodshot, hair tousled and overall, he was shabby.

"You look like a model," I offered by way of greeting. He flipped me the bird. I worked the combination. "I was waiting for you at the library."

He groaned and banged the back of his head against the lockers. "Shit. It totally slipped my mind. Sorry, Charlie."

I took out my calculus book. "It's okay. I know you're going through a rough time."

"It's still no excuse."

I slammed the locker shut and he winced. "You're right. It's no excuse. That's why I'll torture you for the rest of the day." I started whistling and he moaned. "Hm. If I didn't know better I'd think you were hung-over."

"Sometimes I wonder why I even put up with you," he mumbled as he joined the throng of students in the busy hallway.

"Because I'm the awesomest person you've ever met. I give your life a meaning. I save you from yourself. I make those rainy nights bearable."

He laughed softly. "You give me migraines and heart attacks. By the rate you're going at, I'm gonna grow white hair before I hit thirty."

I nodded. "That too."

Tyler passed us by and he smiled at me. I waved. West shook his head.

"I feel bad for the guy," he said. "He doesn't know he's being played by a total femme fatale."

I followed Tyler Lockwood with my eyes. He might have started out as a means to an end but somehow, I found a soft spot for him in my cold heart. Maybe it had something to do with me listening in on his father's conversations for almost a week. Mayor Lockwood hasn't even mentioned the animal attacks in passing. But I learned enough to know he was a cold hearted bastard, especially were his son and wife were concerned. Patronizing, manipulative with the charm of Machiavelli. The Lockwoods always presented themselves to the public as the ideal family, but everyone knew that wasn't the case at all. Growing in such cold environment bound to make a teenage boy a little messed up.

Speaking of tragedies, Matt and Tyler had a falling out. West witnessed it first hand. A drunk Tyler kissed Matt's mom and then beat the _shit_ out of Matt. Who the hell does that?

"I overheard my parents talking last night," West confided in me. His shoulders were slumped and eyes downcast. "Dad wants me to leave town with him."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "What!"

He grabbed my hand and dragged me after him. "He thinks it's too dangerous for me to stay here. Says the animal attacks are happening more frequently."

"So what? You're just gonna pack up and follow him?" My words came out harsher than I was meaning to. Fear gripped me tightly, wounding it's way around my heart. How many more people would just walk out my life before I went mad? West, in his uncanny way of reading me, understood where I was coming from without trying, he squeezed my arm in reassurance.

"I won't abandon you, Charlie. I'm not going anywhere."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I nodded and blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over. God, I was an emotional wreck. His doe eyes softened. "Besides, we have a mystery to solve. What would you do without your faithful side-kick."

I let out a laugh. "You're actually admitting to being a side-kick. I thought you thought it was derogatory."

West grinned. "It is. But you seemed ready to bawl, I had to do something."

I punched in the gut. Hard.

He doubled-over in pain, moaning.

"I really don't know why I put up with you," he called after me as I walked away. I flashed him the middle-finger without turning back.

"Right back atcha!"

* * *

My plan wasn't working very well. I was convinced that the mayor would shed some light at the mystery at hand. But all he talked about was the Founder's Day, meeting with the Council, Tyler's Ivy League educations and budget deficits. Nation changing news.

Richard Lockwood had been supplying the soundtrack to my life for the entire week, whether in bed, in class or out in the streets. I felt like I knew the guy personally. I could probably sell all this to some reporter and get fat with money. A sure way to guarantee my college fund. But the problem at hand was that I was back to square one.

I wanted to bug the Sheriff's office as a last resort. Because:

A) It was simply wrong in five different ways.

B)Sheriff Forbes was Caroline's mother. A good friend's mother.

C)And apparently it was not easy to get an audience with her.

So I opted for the second last resort. The Salvatores.

I know. I know. Call me crazy. Hell, I'm sure I've a few loose screws. Earlier on, Stefan had told me that if I ever needed help with organic chemistry at all, I shouldn't hesitate to ask for his help at all.

That's why I stood at their front door, admiring their house. Old money? Illegal money? Maybe mob connections?

The door swung open to reveal a blond in nothing but her underwear. I blinked, stunned.

"I-I'm sorry but this is the Salvatore house,right?"

Stefan appeared in the hallway. When he spotted the half naked woman at the door, he shot me an apologetic look. I rolled my eyes.

Of course. Damon Salvatore.

"I'm so sorry," Stefan said as I got in. The lady sashayed back into the house. Damon came down the stairs in nothing but a white towel wrapped around his lithe body. It hung so dangerously low on his hips, I was afraid it would drop.

"You guys are having an orgy and didn't invite me," I teased Stefan, who ducked his head in embarrassment.

"I was planning on ringing you up," Damon told me with a smirk. "But I realized that I didn't have your number. But, we could go upstairs any-"

"Damon." It was Elena, emerging from somewhere in the big house.

"What? She asked, I deliver. I'm easy like that."

Well, he was back to the same annoying, sarcastic Damon. What happened last night? Was it my imagination?

"Come on in," Stefan said, gesturing to the house. I walked in to the living room, taking in the fireplace and the bookshelves lined the walls. The decor was tastefully done with expensive tapestries and antique artifacts.

"Why is she even here?" Damon wanted to know.

I turned to him. "I needed help with some chemistry and Stefan was kind enough to help me."

Damon rolled his icy eyes. "Saint Stefan, saving the world, one _point_less at a time." He glared at his younger brother. "We don't have time for charity work, Stef."

"It won't take long," Stefan reassured him.

Damon scoffed, fixing himself some Bourbon in a glass decanter.

"An hour tops," I supplied, taking out my chemistry book.

"That's one hour spend not saving the world for real."

"Don't you have a girl to screw?" I snapped at him, harshly. "Go please her and leave us alone, for one hour."

A tense silence ensued in which Elena and Stefan exchanged worried looks and Damon and I had a staring match going on.

Damon smiled but his eyes were cold. "You're a ballsy one. I like that." He downed his drink and slammed the glass on the table. "One hour," he warned his brother. "Or I won't be held responsible for my actions."

Elena gulped and nodded fervently. "We'll call you when we're done, Damon."

When he trudged upstairs, I turned to Stefan. "I don't understand why you let him bully you like that. Just ream him good for a few days, that oughta set him straight."

I had no idea where all this anger came from or whom it was directed at. Was it at Damon? Or the bitch who opened the door? Or me for being affected by the bitch who opened the door?

"Uh Damon's complicated," Elena offered.

"Not really. _Damon _is just like a spoiled child who holds out when things don't go his way."

"Why don't we just get down business, okay?" Stefan suggested with a tight smile.

And so we did. Stefan didn't hold back at all. He was the best tutor anyone could ask for. Patient, understanding and explained in penny words. If my intentions were sincere, I definitely would have understood and aced the paper. But loud thoughts were bouncing around in my head, making it hard to focus on anything at all.

I couldn't wait for the hour to arrive, glancing at the clock every other five minutes. And when it did arrive, I accidentally knocked over my bag, my books and pens cascading all over the floor. It was almost too easy.

When Elena and Stefan walked me to the door, they had no idea that I had purposefully left a pen under their couch, right in the heart of their house.

Did it make me a bad person to look them in the eye, abuse their honesty and kindness and smile at them?

Yes.

Did I have any real justification other than to satisfy my own curiosity for what I was doing?

No.

"Thanks, Stefan," I told him. "You're a life saver."

As I walked down the driveway, waving at the people I kept backstabbing over and over again, was I ashamed and disgusted of myself?

Hell to the yeah.

But it was all said and done. I had no idea what I was expecting to find, maybe nothing or maybe all my answers.

Only time could tell.

* * *

**A/N:** So another chapter! Shit is about to hit the fan pretty soon! And I've been a bitch. I want to thank everyone who has taken a few minutes to read my story and review. I love you guys! Thanks!

**Reviews and constructive criticism appreciated.**

**xoxoxoxoxo**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything that you recognize.

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_**I guess sometimes you have to lie to find the truth- Scott Westerfeld.**_

Whoever coined the phrase 'be careful of what you wish for' was indisputably a genius. Or the other, more suitable phrase, 'Curiosity killed the cat'.

_Heh._

But I asked for it. Karma has no expiration date. It comes and bites you in the ass when you least expect it.

_"Hi, you've reached John Winchester. I'm sorry that I can't get to the phone at the moment. If it's an emergency, please contact my son Dean." _I closed my eyes, frustrated tears burning behind my lids. I listened as he recited Dean's number and dropped the phone on the picnic table I was sitting at.

It was as if the whole world was avoiding me. Mom, John Winchester and my best friend, West Dylan. I spotted him coming out the side door of the school, squinting at the sun. I raised my hand, waving. He froze in his spot and stared at me. I beckoned him and reluctantly he crossed the distance between us.

"Hey," I said when he reached me.

"Hey."

"You're avoiding me."

He eyes settled on everything but me. He sighed and sat on the bench.

"It's not you," he started, pulling at a lose thread from his jeans. "It's me. It's my messed up family." He looked up. "It's my _dad_."

I reached over the table and laid my hand upon his. "You can tell me anything, you know that right?"

He huffed. "I know that. But it's ...my dad's adamant that we leave town. Says it's too dangerous."

"But there hasn't been an attack for a while now. That's gotta count for something. I'm actually quite disappointed. Not that I want some poor schmuck to die but things are in a standstill."

He grinned. "Yeah, they are. But he isn't having any of it. Mom and dad are at each other's throat_ all_ the time. It's fucking messed up!"

"Did you try standing up to him?" I inquired.

He chuckled, but it lacked humor. "Ah, you're talking about Samuel Dylan. The biggest S.O.B that has ever walked the earth."

I wasn't sure about that but who am I to argue.

"So what's the verdict?"

He shrugged. "Nothing yet. But it's driving me insane. Like I don't have enough on my plate already. And now wants me to play nice with Lockwood and recreate the Battle of the Willow Creek for the Founder's Day. Seriously!"

I laughed. "I get what you mean. Caroline, A.K.A Miss Mystic Falls has been torturing Bonnie and I. Apparently, she doesn't want her float to remotely resemble anything her predecessors ever did. And we both know that team playing isn't my strongest forte."

"No shit," he said. "Must be driving you up the walls."

"Are you kidding me? Five minutes in and I wanted to commit murder _and _plead guilty!"

"So, what have you been up to? Any news on your mother?"

I shook my head, feeling the anxiety bubbling inside. "No. Nothing yet."

"What about your emergency contact."

"Some emergency contact. He's not pickin' up either. Wants me to call his son."

"And did you call him? Maybe he could help?" West suggested.

I scoffed at the idea. "I've known Dean Winchester for a while now and he doesn't strike me as someone who's responsible. He's more of a booze and party type of a guy."

He drummed a beat on the table. Something that was familiar. Probably a movie soundtrack. The entire Mystic Falls was in a super hyper and festive mood. It was the 150th year anniversary. Quite a milestone.

"So I read Jonathan Gilbert's journal," I informed West. He sat up, giving me his undivided attention. "That guy was a little loopy in the head."

"How so?"

"Like a mad scientist. He kept rambling on and on about these inventions he made. And one woman named Pearl that he had the hots for. _"I saw her again today"_ I adopted a deep and cheesy voice. "_The most beautiful woman in town with a name just as pretty-Pearl.'"_

West was grinning. "Anything on your ancestor."

"Just a few entries. Him having a meeting with Franklin and Barnette and Giuseppe to discuss about a compass. And some other asinine stuff." I ran a hand through my hair. "Nothing insightful. Except maybe that Jeremy's great-great grandpa was certifiably insane."

"Aw c'mon, don't be that mean. Maybe the guy was just passionate."

"Clearly. Enough to believe in vampires."

West face changed instantly. "Vampires?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yep. Nothing says crazy like that." I reached into my bag and took out my Ipod. "I do have something to pique your interest however." I took a deep breath. "I bugged the Salvatore's house."

"What?" he shrieked.

"Yesterday. I didn't tell you because I knew this would be your reaction."

_"Please_, enlighten me, what is my reaction?"

"Outraged. Disbelief. And maybe a hint of betrayal."

He closed his eyes, calming himself. "I can't believe you. First the Lockwoods, now the Salvatores. And I know you're just itching to wire the Sheriff's office. You know, maybe you should let this go and do normal stuff for a change."

I pointed to myself. "This is normal for me. Joining the party committee isn't exactly normal Charlie Sanders behaviour."

West was shaking his head. "What do you expect to find, huh? Why do you even care?"

I looked up from the screen of my Ipod and stared at him with raised eyebrows. "I wanna know what the hell Sheriff Forbes and Damon are hiding?"

"Did ever to occur to you that maybe they're not hiding anything. That they actually doing their job."

"What's the matter with you, today? I thought you were on board when I suggested this whole thing. What changed your mind?"

"Nothing. Nothing's changed my mind." He watched me in silence for a while. "I just don't want you to get hurt, Charlie."

I blinked, surprised by the raw emotions in his voice. "I'll be fine, West. Nothing's going to happen to me. They won't even know. And I promise, as soon as I get what I want, I'll remove the bugs and put this whole thing behind us." I smiled at him. "Then we'll get back to the mundane superficial teenage lives and keep track of who's who and indulge in some angsty romance dramas like the rest of them, okay."

He worked his jaw for a second or two. "Fine." He got up and came to sit beside me. "So what have you got?"

"Well, I haven't listened to it, yet. Wanted to hear it with you." I pulled up the only conversation the two brothers and Elena had in the living room, sometime after I left. I handed West one of my headphones. We brought our heads closer, trying to block out the outside noise.

I smiled at West. "Here goes nothing, buddy."

He nodded and I pressed play.

* * *

Damon prided himself for never abiding by the rules and boundaries set by others unlike his baby brother. He would poke the beast and taunt the guard just because he could. Damon Salvatore, Mr. Fast and Loose.

And why would he, he was a vampire for crying out loud. He was the closest thing to a God and yet, here he was, stuck in a bind because one little human girl with imploring eyes asked him not to.

He was seriously loosing his edge.

Even he didn't understand the hold Elena Gilbert had on him. Yes, she clearly resembled his bitch of an ex girlfriend but shouldn't that be a pretty good reason to show her the finger and carry on what he really wanted to do. Elena was the reflection of Katherine and then she wasn't. She was kind, caring and protective of her friends, whereas the bitch from hell was...well, a bitch from hell.

For over a hundred and forty odd years his one single goal was to free his beloved psycho girlfriend from the tomb, drive off into the sunset and terrorize the world, while watching Mystic Falls burn to the ground in the rear-view mirror.

_And how's that working out for you, buddy._

Well, said girlfriend wasn't even in the tomb to start with, and didn't even bother to find him, to let him know she was safe and alive. No call, no letter, nothing.

He thought he had hit rock-bottom when he learned the truth. But surprisingly he bounced right back up. After killing a human or two. Hey, everyone has their coping mechanisms. No judging.

Now, here he was, standing in front of Mystic High, ready to defend it from the likes of Isobel and Pearl. At least Pearl was taken care of by Jonathan Gilbert. That's one less body to dispose of. If he didn't hate the guy, he might have clapped him on the back and bought him a beer.

And there was the trouble with Isobel. Elena's biological mother, Alaric's ex wife , Jonathan's old flame and Katherine's messenger. Too many titles. He ought to pay her a visit, break a bone or to and if she got too much on his nerves, snap her neck just because he could. After all, he was the one who turned her. The lord maketh, the lord taketh.

He aloofly watched the humans walk around, chatting and setting up the floats for the Founder's Day celebration. His eyebrows shot up in interest when he spotted a familiar pest.

Charlie Sanders.

Or as he thought of her: Charlie Morrison.

Nothing flared up his homicidal tendencies like that name. And Katherine. And blood. And uncooperative bastards. And Stefan. But the Morrisons were at the top of the list. Franklin Morrison had been a good friend and confident to his old man back in the day. It was Franklin who suggested to the Council that they trap the vampires in the tomb. It was he who told his father about Katherine after the bitch outed Emily Bennett(not that she didn't have it coming.) It was Franklin Morrison who murdered his own son, James, a good friend of Damon's back when he gave a damn, in cold blood when learnt that he was turned.

Damon _hated_ the Morrison clan. And by default, he hated Charlie Sanders. The funny thing was that, he had tried to kill her numerous times. The little thing was nosy and annoying as hell and she didn't bend to his will like he'd have wanted her to. She called out his bluff, stood up to him and infuriated him beyond belief. The final straw was the night he had found her at the cemetery and she dropped the bombshell, unknowingly signing her death sentence.

Opening the tomb wasn't his only plan for over a century. Revenge was there too but he couldn't find the damn Morrisons. They hid their identities pretty well, and by the time he did pick up chatter on them, the remaining last two were set on fire by another vampire. He wanted to meet the guy, shake his hand and rip out his heart for taking away his closure.

Until he found her.

Damon had honestly entertained the idea of killing her on the spot that very night. But then she gazed up at him with those big green eyes talking about how she didn't think he was dangerous or bad and something inside him overpowered him and begged him to let her go.

_Just let her go. Just this once_.

That was the old Damon Salvatore talking. The human Damon Salvatore. He let him out once in awhile and lucky her, she remained standing at her doorstep with a beating heart.

He watched her like a hawk that night, his mind going over thousand way to stop that rising and falling chest. But no matter what he did, he simply _couldn't_. Something locked onto him, possessed him in her presence, something that kept her save and alive. And sometimes, he would be grateful. Other times he would kill someone else as a substitute.

When he couldn't take a moment of it, he went to his brother and Elena. He vividly remembers their shocked expressions when he told the plans he had for her. Elena showed him the judgy eyes of hers and gave him an ultimatum:

_"If you do anything to hurt Damon, anything at all, I swear I'll never forgive you. You'll be dead to me."_

Hours later when she went home and checked up on Charlie, Stefan ventured into his room, wearing his lecture face.

_"Whatever happened in the past is in the past. You can't blame her for something that she didn't have any control over."_

_Damon smirked. "You're right. But killing her will send a message to the rest of them and I _like_ that."_

_"Charlie is just an innocent teenage girl who is part of Elena's family and my friend. If you kill her, Mystic Falls will be a bloodbath. Every hunter who's ever crossed path with their family will come here and there will be a war. I don't want another 1864 to happen. Not now. Not when Elena and her loved ones are alive."_

_"Too bad," Damon had said. "The word is already out. I'm sure Pearl and her harem of vampires know about her existence and I can assure you, they are a lot more vengeful than I am. Funny what being stuck in a tomb can do your sense of humor."_

_Stefan had flashed before him using his super speed and crowded his space. "What have you done, Damon?"_

_"Strategically dropped her name to Pearl in exchange for the device. Oh don't look at me like that, brother. I did that for the good of Elena and all her loved ones."_

_"Listen to me carefully, Damon. Hurt her, and I'll end you for real this time. You sacrificed one of my friends already, I won't let you do it again."_

Often times he wondered why he even bothered to tell them. Maybe he was hoping that they could keep him on his toes so he didn't do anything stupid and screw up. He studied her, cataloging her every expression, her every move. It was just the predator in him, enticed by the hunt. She was wearing a sleeve less shirt, giving him a perfect view of her neck and collarbone. He has spend endless hours fantasizing about sinking his fangs into her soft, light brown skin.

He wanted to taste her blood so much.

"She's a beautiful girl, isn't she?"

Damon didn't even notice Jonathan Gilbert approaching him.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to have a little chat with Carol Lockwood," the blond man replied. "What about you?"

Damon tore his gaze off Charlie's neck and shot Jon a dirty look. "I got a call from history teacher. Apparently my baby brother cheated on his latest pop quiz."

"Time is running out, Damon. Better find that device quick or I'll be forced to blow your cover."

Hell would have to freeze over, _twice_, before he handed anything to the bastard. The device was currently in the breast pocket of his leather jacket but Uncle Jon didn't have to know that.

"I didn't get to thank you earlier," Damon said. "For getting rid of Pearl. Saved me the effort."

"I didn't do it for you," the man replied curtly. "As soon as you hand over the device, you'll meet with the same fate." He made a move to walk away but then stopped, his eyes going to the picnic table Charlie was occupying with that jock friend of hers. Jon faced Damon, pinning him with a deathly glare. "And I also suggest you stay away from Charlie. That is if you don't want me to drive a stake through your dead heart."

Damon could feel his eyes crinkling with barely suppressed rage.

_Who the fuck does this stuck-up bastard think he is to talk to me this way?_

"Aren't you a little too old for her, Jon?" he said instead. "She's practically jail bait."

"I quote that right back at you."

"The only thing that I wanna do to her is drink her dry," he taunted the older man. Damon was a dick, and he liked it.

Jon stepped closer, invading his personal space. "I'd be careful of what I say next. Very. Careful."

Damon smirked. "Wow, you're turning red with rage. You must really like her."

Jon's expression was one of disgust. "Long ago I made a promise to her father that should anything happen to him, I'd watch over her with my life. Abominable creatures like you was the number one thing he asked me to keep her away from. And I aim to do that."

"Good luck, she's already got the hots for me."

Jonathan ignored him and looked at her dotingly before walking away but not before saying, "Get me the device, Damon or this could all end badly."

_Fuck_.

Charlie came from a family of hunters on both sides of her family.

Killing her is not such a good idea, after all.

Damon focused his heightened sense of hearing at her, ignoring the chatter of the others.

_"Jonathan killed Pearl."_

_"Uncle Jon. What? When?"_

Just what the hell was going on here? He could hear himself and Elena.

_"Just when she was about to skip town. Stake right through the heart."_

_"And you're sure that it was Jonathan?" Stefan asked._

_"Yes. And Alaric has an alibi. I was with the guy. And unless you know another vampire hunter here in town, it's annoying Uncle Jon. Personally I think he did us a favor. I took the device and he cleaned up after me. Kinda poetic, don't you think."_

It took a few long seconds for the pieces to click together in his mind and when it did, it was as if the whole world titled on it's axis.

Damon saw red and not giving a damn about consequence, flashed over to her, yanking the earphones. Both the kids jumped in fright, eyes wide and confused.

"How did you- what the hell are you doing?" she asked.

"What are you listening to?" He could hear yesterday's conversation.

"Give me my Ipod back, Damon," she said in a shaky voice.

Without a warning, Damon smashed it against the ground, sending bits and pieces flying in the air.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" the boy yelled, grabbing him by the collars.

_Wrong move,kid._

Charlie figured as much. "West no, don't. West, let go!"

People generally pissed Damon off and this one actually dared to touch him, Damon let himself lose control. He latched on the boy's wrist and crushed the bone. The boy let out a wail but Damon clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Oh my god. What the hell did you do to him?" Charlie cried, rushing towards him. "What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"I told you to stay out this," Damon growled at her.

She trembled, frightened. The bastard was whimpering in pain.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" she said.

"Don't make me break his other hand! I'll do it and enjoy it very much."

"Let him go," she pleaded, green eyes moistening with tears.

"Where's the bug?" he countered.

"Let. Him. Go."

Damon glanced around to see if he was drawing too much attention. Most of the people were busy with their own dramas. He applied pressure the boy's hand and his eyes widened, his muffled scream getting louder.

"Stop! You're hurting him!" She reached for her bag.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. So instead of dragging this out any longer, I suggest you tell me where you planted that bug."

She glanced at her friend, torn between helping him and her stubborn nature.

"It's under the couch in the living room. You're looking for a pen."

Damon released the boy then, who sank to his knee, cupping his right hand.

"See, that wasn't so hard."

She sat beside him on the ground, staring at his hand. When Damon spoke, she looked up at him with accusing eyes. "Fuck you, Damon. You'll pay for this!"

Mr. Fast and Loose decided to make an emergence and so Damon grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him. "You shouldn't go making threats, honey. I'm always up for a challenge.

"Don't touch her," the boy grunted from the ground.

Damon rolled his eyes. "I don't think you're in a state to threaten me either."

"Let me go."

"You and I have lots to talk about, Missus."

"I've nothing to say to you."

"Let her go, Damon."

Damon turned to his younger brother and Elena. "We've got ourselves a little situation, brother."

"Oh my God," Elena yelled, her eyes on the broken hand. "Did you do this, Damon?"

"Elena, take West to the hospital," Stefan spoke, always the voice of reason, his little brother. "And meet us at the boarding house when you're done."

Damon could barely feel the strength of Charlie as she tried to tug herself free.

_She's so small_, he thought.

He resisted the urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her.

"Let go off me you bastard."

Stefan stepped forward, sending him the puppy eyes. Reluctantly, Damon eased his grip and she yanked herself away from him.

"What the hell's going on?" Elena wanted to know.

"You're new bestie bugged our house and knows everything."

Elena's eyes got twice their normal size. It would be almost comical if it was under any other circumstance.

"Alright we'll deal with this calmly, _rationally_." Stefan directed those words towards Damon. "But first, West needs to get his hand checked out."

Elena nodded, pulling West along. Charlie took a step after them but Damon stopped her. "You're coming with us."

"Screw you. I'm not going anywhere with you. You're crazy."

"I promise you, Charlie, I won't let anything happen to you," Stefan assured her. She watched him distrustfully.

"Do vampires really exist?" she asked him.

Damon watched his idiot brother open his mouth and say, "Yes."

_Was he the only sane one?_

The girl visibly shuddered, still dazed. Stefan reached for her, cupped her elbow and slowly led her towards his car.

Another complication. Trust the damn Morrisons to fuck everything up. He knew there was a good reason why he wanted her dead.

Next time, Damon Salvatore would his instinct and rip her throat out and drown in her blood.

Right after he slapped around Isobel a bit.

* * *

**A/N:** So what do you think? I didn't like it much drama. But I'm trying to take it slow. First introduce the concept of vampires to her and then let her find out that that the brothers are vampires too.

**Review and constructive criticism are very much appreciated.**

**xoxoxoxo**


	14. Chapter 14

_****_**Disclaimer: **I only own my OCs.

* * *

_**All secrets are deep. All secrets become dark. That's in the nature of secrets -Cory Doctorow**_

Have you ever stumbled upon a secret so big, so colossal that it changed something inside of you? It changed your entire view of the world and the people are around you. A secret so dark that it screwed with your mind, teased and taunted your sanity, so much so that the line between delusion and reality blurred.

Distorted images of blood, fangs and and dead bodies kept spinning in my head, piercing shrieks supplying the background. My fear bypassed logic and went straight to my adrenaline glands. I was cold and hot at the same time, scared and excited, believing and disbelieving.

I pressed the cold glass against my lips and swallowed the water on auto pilot. Elena was patting my back in comfort, and brushing the curls away from face.

"So, you got enough material for your Barbara Walters moment?" Damon snidely remarked from the bar where he was fixing himself a drink.

"Damon, not now," Elena hissed.

"It's what she wanted to know, wasn't it. That the boogey man is real. And just to set to record straight, Nancy Drew, they don't cuddle and they definitely don't sparkle."

"How can you be so glib and fucked up after dropping a bombshell like this?" West grumbled from the corner he was sitting at.

"Careful, you don't want to become an invalid and lose the other hand."

"Do that, and you'll lose your left nut," West shot back.

"Why don't you try, kid?"

Stefan peeled himself from the shadows and stopped between them. "That's enough threats for one day." He cut his eyes to Damon who was pacing around the room.

My head was hurting real bad.

"So what's your role in all of this?" I blurted out.

Damon couldn't help himself but laugh as if I had said the funniest joke in the world.

Stefan ignored him. "Elena and I just got caught up in this madness. Damon however, is on the Council. There a lot high ranking civil servants in the council. And few of the Founding Families. Officially, they commomerate Mystic Falls' foundation."

"And unofficially?" I asked

"Unofficially, they protect the city from threats the likes of vampires. They are the ones that uh...cover up the deaths as animal attacks."

I felt sick, realizing how I stupid I was, chasing after vampires.

_Vampires._

The trio have infromed me about the tomb vampires running rampant in town, killing and destroying, ready to claim back Mystic Falls and kill Founing Families. I didn't know which parts shocked me more: the existing mythical creatures that provided an enitre genre of fiction or the fact that Alaric was a vampire slayer. Or that Elena's biological mother is a vampire or that Alaric was married to her. Or that Bonnie was a witch. Or that I basically had a bounty on my head because my great-great-great-grandpa proposed the idea of sealing away twenty seven vampires.

My head was about to burst.

"I've a question though," Damon started, pointing a finger at West. "For someone who's entire world has been turned upside down, you seem quite calm."

I looked at West, his hand in a cast and eyes bloodshot. He shrugged. "I guess I handle bad news better than Charlie."

"Hm." Damon tilted his head to the side and resumed his pacing. We all watched him like hawks. "It's almost as if you aren't surprised at all."

West laughed, it was nervous and high-pitched. "Are you serious? I knew vampires existed?"

"You're not trembling?" Damon pointed out. "You're not wide-eyed and you didn't get into a catatonic trance like Shortie."

"I'm on pain meds, man. They are messing with me."

"Damon, just stop," Stefan pleaded.

"Why are you sweating bullets?" Damon wanted to know.

West opened his mouth to deny but he caught my eye and closed it with an audible snap. He knew he couldn't bullshit me.

"West?" My voice cracked. "Is he right?"

"Wha-what. No." He got up and came to me. "No. I didn't know that vampire existed."

I stared at him. He ran a hand through his hair and dropped his gaze. "My dad is a hunter," he whispered. "That's the reason why he wanted me to leave. I overheard him talking on the phone and he mentioned...vampires."

My breath hitched up. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it was insane!" he cried. "It was messed up and crazy and so unbelieveable. I mean, how I would I tell you that vampires are real."  
I bit my tongue to keep from lashing out. I felt betrayed. I felt like a fool. "I thought we didn't keep things from each other,"I whispered.

He fixed me with a glare. "Yeah. We're so forthcoming with each other. That's why you didn't tell me about you bugging this place."

"Ouch!" Damon moaned mockingly.

"At least I came clean," I shot back.

"Hey," It was Elena. "Guys, time-out. You're nerves are shot and you aren't thinking straight."

"Whatever," West grumbled. "I'm outta here."

"Wait," Stefan called after him.

West turned back. "Don't worry, I won't run around in Main Street annoucing it to the world. I just need some air."

I buried my face in my hands and exhaled loudly. The front door slammed shut, a roar of engine and West was gone.

"Wow. Quite a lover's tiff," Damon muttered. "Usually it's the girl who walks out with outrage. Guess we now know who wears the pants in this relationship."

I raised my head and glared at him. "You're an asshole, you know that. You didn't have to break his hand."

"You're right. I shouldn't have. But you know me, I've a flare for dramatics."

Elena went over to Stefan and they muttered to themselves. I sank deeper into the couch and watched the fire burn. This time last year, it was movie night at home with popcorn and pizza. Mom and dad would be fighting over The Die Hard or Lethal Weapon movies. And here I was now, all alone in a town with secrets dating back for over a century.

Elena placed a hand on my shoulder. "We've to go now. Isobel's got Jeremy hostage and I need to handover the device to her."

My heart thudded loudly at the thought of a vampire hurting Jeremy. "Will you be alright?" I got to my feet. "I could come if you want me to."

"Not a chance," Damon yelled from across the room.

"What he means is that Elena will be with us," Stefan clarified. "We won't let anything happen to her or Jeremy." He smiled reassuringly and I wondered if I would ever find a boyfriend as kind and considerate as him.

I nodded. "I'll- I'll wait for you here." And then I did something that was so out of character. I pulled Elena into a hug. I could tell she was just as surprised by the way her back stiffened for a moment before wrapping her hand around me tightly.

"Everything will work out fine," she whispered.

I nodded and let go, tucking a curl behind my ear. She smiled before walking away, the Salvatore brothers flanking behind her.

I collapsed as soon as they left, feeling drained and hollow.

What has my life become? I was half-convinced that this was all a nightmare and come morning, I'd be rushing off to school and West won't be sporting a cast. But it's not going to happen.

It was if we were both stripped off of our innocence and tainted with something dark and evil.

I must have dozed off, because when I opened my eyes again, they had been gone for almost an hour. I got to my feet and stretched. Fascinated by the collection of rare and old books the Salvatores had, I checked them out. And since bad habits die hard, I went on a little expedition, exploring the boarding house. I sauntered around the upstaris rooms, poked my head in the gleaming and sparkling kitchen. I wondered how the two of them managed to pay for all of this. A trust fund perhaps.

There was a staircase leading to the basement and I took it, cursing myself for shivering in fear. It was just a basement! But when the light bulbs flickered and long shadows stretched across the gray walls, I had to will myself not to whimper. The basement was older than the rest of the house. There were two locked doors that resembled jail cells. I gripped the metal bars and peered inside.

It was cold, dirty and heavy metal chains lay on the ground.

Involuntary, I stepped back, heart beating wildly against my ribcage.

I rushed back to the stairs but stopped dead in my tracks when I noticed a cooler pushed against the wall in the far corner. I don't know how've missed it before.

"What the hell?" I murmured. What's it doing here?

With shaky hands I pushed it open and held back a scream. Mountains of blood bags filled the cooler. My brain began to put the pieces together.

_I can't breathe_.

I recalled the list of the Founding Families.

Stefan and Damon Salvatore.

Elena didn't even hesitate meeting with vampires.

The unnerving way of the brothers, how they never made a sound when they moved.

Damon literally appearing out nowhere today at school.

How he _knew_ I was listening to him.

_I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe!_

I jumped back, the lid falling close. My vision blurred, the whole world tipped to one side and the ground lurched to my face.

_Get out!_

Stumbling, I ran to the stairs, gripping the banister and pushing myself in panic. I couldn't think straight, I couldn't see straight.

Stefan, oh so sweet and caring Stefan is a vampire.

I burst through the doors and took in a deep breath.

_Damon._

My lower lip quivered and a sob escaped me. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth and furiously blinked back the tears.

My chest hurt so bad. I heard the engine of a car. They were back.

_Get out! Get out!_

I dashed into the living room, grabbed my jacket, ready to flee.

I could hear their voices, aimlessly chattering as they opened the door.

I brushed away the tear tracks, worked on my breathing and plastered on a fake smile.

"Charlie," Elena called out. She smiled when she saw me.

I waved at her lamely. "Hey.." My voice broke off. I swallowed and tried again. "Hey. How did it go? Is Jeremy safe?"

Stefan and Damon walked in and my heart pounded so hard, I was sure they heard it.

_Of course they can hear it. They are vampires._

That thought did nothing to ease my fear.

Elena threw her jacket on the chair and plopped down. "He's at home. He's in one piece and safe."

"And Isobel has the device which we dispelled," Stefan added as he took a seat next to his girlfriend. I tried not to flinch when he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"And we saved the world," Damon carried on. "Again."

I nodded along, feeling exposed and vulnerable. I stopped breathing when Damon walked by me to the bar.

"I-I gotta go," I told them, hurrying towards the hall. "I need to go. Check on Jeremy."

Stefan agreed. "You go do that." A smile. "It's been a long and hard day for you. For all of us."

Elena made a move to get up but I stopped her. "No, no. It's okay. You stay. I'll just walk home."

"Em...did you not here about the part where there is a bounty on your head?" Damon asked me, bourbon in his hand.

I gulped. How could I forget?

"I just need some time and space to process all of this."

"I can take you home," Stefan offered.

"No!" I yelled. They all stared at me as if I had grown an arm out of my head. I covered up my nerves with a shaky laugh. "I mean, you don't have to. You guys saved the world! Celebrate!"

Damon put down the glass decanter. "I could take you, if that's better."

_So he could feed on you._

"I need to be alone," I said softly. "Please."

Elena got up and opened her arms. I hugged her back.

"Here." She placed her car keys in my palm. "Drive carefully."

"But what about you?"

"Stefan will bring me home. I'll see you later, alright."

"Sure."

I couldn't help it, I glanced at Damon who was playing with his ring. How couldn't I've not seen it before? His beauty was other-worldly. No flaws. He watched me thoughtfully in his intense way. My skin literally crawled.

I didn't slow down until I climbed Elena's RAV4 and pulled back out their estate. I sped off towards the town, realizing for the first time how secluded their house was, surronded by dense woods on either side. My grip on the steering wheel was so tight, my knuckles turned white. I feared my jaw would snap because I was gritting my teeth, trying to hold it in. Until I was in my room. Breakdown in my own room. Were I was safe and sound.

There was not a single car in the street, only me, which only fueled my fear. Through the windshield, I could make out two shadowy figures in the middle of the street. I got a clearer view once I neared them. A limp body lay on the ground, someone was hovering over them.

My mouth instantly went dry and I was transported to the night in the alley when I found the poor girl. To Ryan. To every photo I've seen.

_Vampire!_ my brain shrieked.

I pressed my foot on the brake lightly, slowing down.

"Or maybe it's another body and someone who just discovered it," I tried to reassure myself.

I stopped the car a few good feet away from them, incase they really were vampires. I was ready to run them over. I could hear my own heart beat doing some serious acrobatic moves.

I pulled down the window half-way. The figure stood up, squinting at the beam of headlights. It was a young blond woman, covered in blood.

_Oh shit!_

"Please," I heard cry. "Please help me. My boyfried...he was attacked!"

She ran towards me and in an act of self-preservation, I pulled the window back up and locked the car. Her blue eyes were wide with fear and I almost felt bad.

_She could be a vampire._

She pounded on the window and tried to open the door. "Please! Help us! He's dying!"

I fumbled for my cellphone. I pressed speed-dial one.

"I'm calling 911!" I yelled to her. "Just wait for a second."

I glanced at the screen, Elena's name appearing. When I turned back, the woman was no longer screaming, in fact she no longer seemed afraid. Her lips stretched into a smirk.

"Hello, Charlie."

_I'm so dead. _

"Elena!" I cried into the phone. "V-vampires!"

"Where are you Charlie?"

"A mile-"

I screamed when the windshield broke into tiny pieces. I slammed my foot on the accelator.

"Charlie!"

There had been no body. They were two vampires acting as bait.

And suddenly I was shoved against the passenger seat, the car violently veering off course and titling completey to the left side, hard enough to toss me back to the window of the driver's seat, smashing my head against it. Something hot and sticky trailed down the sides of my face.

_It's just blood_, I told myself absent-mindedly. The car slammed hard against a tree. I took a second to realize that I survived this. I let out a shaky breath and took inventory of my bones. Nothing was broken, thank God.

"Charlie! Please talk to me..." Elena's hysterical sobbing brought me back to reality. Giving up on finding the phone in the wreckage, I spoke out to the air.

"Elena! Two vampires. They attacked-"

A cold hand latched onto my ankle and pratically ripped me away from the car and dumped onto the cold, patchy ground. The scream died in my throat when the breath left my lungs.

The trees merged into one, distorted voices reaching my ringing ears. I willed my body to move, but I felt as if an anvil had matted me to ground.

"It's been a long time coming," the blond said to her partner. "Isn't that right, Morrison."

The last thought I had before the world faded to black was:

_Fuck you, grandpa Franklin. Fuck. You._

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**A/N:** Just wanted to thank all the reviewers and hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Reviews please! They put a smile on my** **face.**

**xoxoxoxo**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** Sadly I only own my OCs

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_**Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage- Lao Tzu**_

_"Daddy, I'm scared," the little girl cried, clutching the front of her father's shirt. "V-vampires. They are here."_

_The father cooed and rocked her soothingly. "There are no vampires, baby-cakes. They're not real."_

_She choked on a sob. "I saw them. Outside my window. They want my blood."_

_"Where are they, Charlie? C'mon baby, show daddy where them vampires are at!" He went to the window and ripped open the curtain. "Show them to me and I'll kick there butts right back to where they came from."_

_The child peeked outside with one eye. She frowned when she saw the street empty. She had been sure the monsters were lurking outside the window, fangs bared dripping blood. Unconsciously, she touched her neck._

_Her father bounced her around. "You see any blood-sucking monsters, coz I sure don't." _

_Regaining her confidence, she craned her neck and searched for them, but they weren't there. Sheepishly, she glanced at her daddy and shook her head._

_He smiled wide. "See, I tol' you so! There ain't no vamps in my town. Not on my watch."_

_"Not in daddy's town," she reiterated._

_He nodded proudly and raised his hand. "Now, who's your daddy!"_

_She slapped his palm with one of her own. "You're my daddy."_

_Any residual fear evaporated at the sound of her father's laughter. _

_"You got that right, punk." He placed a kiss on her temple. "Now, let's get you back to bed. We don't wanna get mamma mad."_

Uh-oh_, the child thought as she glanced over her father's child. Mamma was already up, leaning against the doorframe, with her arms crossed._

_Charlie was worried of her mother's reaction but relaxed when she smiled and opened her arms. Her mamma held her dearly and carried her to bed._

_"Want me to crawl in with you, Charls?" mom asked._

_She patted the empty space and nodded, feeling drowsy already._

_Her father was dangling something glittery and shiny in front of her._

_"This, baby-cakes, is gonna protect you from the monsters."_

_She stared, fascinated. "Even vampires?"_

_"Especially them nasties." He gently grabbed her ankle and clasped it there. A shriek of laughter escaped her when he tickled her foot for good measures._

_"No more nightmares," her mother whispered, brushing back her hair._

_"No more nightmares," her father agreed. Charlie fell asleep to her mother's soft contralto as she sang about rainbows and blue birds._

"Mom," I croaked, voice raspy. "Dad."

My whole body ached. It felt as if weights had been placed on top of my lids.

"Hey," Cold hands cupped my cheeks. "Charlie, wake up. Wake up!"

That was neither of my parents. I focused soley on getting my eyes to open. It took a few tries.

"Shortie, open your eyes. Try again."

I did as instructed and the first thing I saw was the color of blue. A unique blue. Almost glassy. Icy. Familiar eyes.

_Damon _my brain supplied without a moment's hesitation.

Damon Salvatore.

And like a brickwall, it all came crashing down on me.

"V-vampires!" I gasped, panic gripping me. "They attacked me."

Suddenly, Damon was literally ripped away from. I shrieked as I watched him slam into a tree, sending branches and trunks flying in the air. Damon didn't even pause for a second before launching himself at the attacker.

Slowly I sat up, the ground spinning around. Damon held the blond vampire who attacked me earlier by the throat,pinned to the ground.

"You're the older Salvatore,aren't you?" she rasped, fangs bared. "Damon."

"Since you know who I'm, why would you be so stupid and try to fight me."

The blond tried to wriggle out of his grasp but Damon held on tightly.

"I came to get the Morrison bitch."

"Uh-uh. I'd be careful of what I say next."

I got to my feet, my muscles protesting. I glanced around the surrondings. Elena's car was a wreck, shards of metal and glass littered the side of the road.

"Protecting her honor," she spat. "I suffered because of her family."

"Get over it."

"Damon," I called to him. "There were two of them."

He glanced at me and the vampire took that chance and shoved Damon away. It happened so fast, I barely had time to proceess it. The blond, in a blur of super speed, gunned for me and then I felt teeth ripping into my skin. White-hot pain shot through my system, blinding me and ridding me of my voice. She latched herself on my neck like a rabid animal.

And suddenly she was lifted off me. I collapsed onto the ground, lightheaded and in agony. All around me there were snarls, growls and the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh. Damon and the blond fought like savage animals. Until they slowed down enough for my human eyes to see Damon having her pinned to a tree trunk with large branches. The vampire let out wail after wail as Damon penetrated the shoulders and thighs and her stomach. Satisfied by his handiwork, he pulled away and rushed over to me.

Shockingly, when he touched me,his fingers were so tender, so gentle that I leaned into his hands instead of flinching and shying away.

"Let me see the wound," he ordered. He had to literally pry my hands away from my neck where I was I attempting to stop the blood flow.

"There were two of them, Damon. The other one is around here, somewhere."

He tilted my head to the side, studying the wound. He didn't like what he saw. "Shit," he swore. He grabbed by face and brushed back the hair. I looked into his eyes. "Is it bad?"

He didn't reply but simply brought his wrist to his mouth and bit down hard.

"Damon what-"

He held the back of my neck and stuck his bleeding arm to my face. "Drink this, it will heal you."

"What? No." I backed away but he pushed me. "No. Damon,_ no_. _No_."  
"Listen to me and drink it," he snapped harshly.

I was shaking my head, tears cascading down my face and begging him but he shoved his arm in my face, forcing me to drink it. My muffled protest echoed got swallowed by the vampire's whimpers. The sharp metallic taste bursted in my mouth and involuntary, I swallowed. Again and again. With every swallowed amount of Damon's blood, the pain lessened until it ebbed away completely. I could literally feel the broken skin of my body come together and heal.

Damon finally let go of my neck and took his hand away. I sat there, internally freaking out about what just happened, with blood smeared all over my face. I squeezed out the remaining tears, my whole body trembling.

When we heard a sound akin to a twig snapping, Damon was on his feet in a flash. My heart was painfully thudding against my ribcage. I stood up too, glancing at the hissing and moaning vampire.

"Where's you're partner?" Damon asked her.

"Getting...back...up," she rasped. She fixed me with a murderuous. "We wanted...to en-joy...tearing...you..a..part!"

I shuddered and instinctively moved closer to Damon, holding onto his arm. I knew I was weak. I knew I was being pathetic but I feared if I didn't touch him somehow, he'd disappear and I'd be all alone.

"Then it's a good thing I have back up too," Damon mused, his voice aloof as always. When our eyes met, he showed me his usually cocky smirk and for some unknown reason, it comforted me deeply. It promised me everything would be okay. Damon would be Damon and the balance of the world would be restored again.

A figure leapt out the tree and landed right next to us. I shrieked but it was only Stefan, concern marring his handsome features. He looked over me, tilting my head this way and that, making sure I was trully alright. I almost burst out in tears. I felt so foolish for fearing them earlier. It was Stefan for Chrissake. Stefan the saint.

And Damon.

Stefan and Damon Salvatore.

"You okay?" he asked me, brushing a lone tear with the pad of his thumb.

"I'm now."

"We should get her outta here," he told his brother. His eyes shot to the blond vampire. "She the one."

"One of them. Charlie said there's another one somewhere."

"Actually, there's four of us," a voice emerged from the woods.

Stefan and Damon pulled me between them. Four new vampires, all male circled us. We were clearly outnumbered but the brothers made no effort to back down.

I was seriously hoping that they were not thinking of taking them down because it was simply impossible.

The vampire who led the entourage cocked his head and smiled at me.

"When word got around that a Morrison was here- rigth in Mystic Falls- I couldn't believe my luck." He did a once-over and licked his lips. "Didn't think you'd be this tasty either."

His goons took long sniffs. "Smell that boys. It's the sweet scent of revenge."

"Wanna have go, baby brother?" Damon asked.

Stefan adopted a non-threatning stance and spoke to the men. "Let's not make this any harder than it is. I'll give you three hours to leave here, pack up and get the hell out of Mystic Falls."

The vampires laughed at him.

So negotiating failed. We were doomed.

"Which one of you did this to Mary?" one of them growled.

Damon raised his hand. "Uh..That would be me." A smirk. "I know I'm talented. You think the Louvre musuem will like it?"

The leader bared his fangs and shot for Damon. Damon moved blindingly fast, caught him mid-air and ripped his heart out. Mary sobbed from her corner. Damon dropped the organ to the floor and picked up a branch and sunk it deeply into the struggling vampire. Another one jumped on Damon and got him into a head-lock.

A strong arm grabbed me by the waist and I whisked off my feet, away from the circle. Stefan pressed me against a tree and stood guard.

"But you gotta help Damon!" I yelled at him.

"Damon can handle this."

And he was right, Damon snapped the assailants neck, dropped him and picked the third, sending him crashing against a boulder before sticking a branch in his neck. All of this was happening so fast, body's dropping dead, blood spilling. Part of me was entranced while the saner one was frightened beyond reason. I shaking against Stefan's back.

"Shh,it's gonna be fine," he muttered, his stance rigid, ready to fly in the moment Damon needed him.

Only one vampire was left standing. Damon grinned at him with almost homicidal glee. Damon got off of fighting. I could now see what everyone meant when they said he was dangerous. Like a primal animal with zero fear and absolute confidence.

He laughed. "Ah, you should have left when my brother told you to!"

"Fuck you," the vampire spat.

"Sorry. You're not my type." With that he flung himself at the trembling creature. Just when he almost grabbed his neck, something went wrong and Damon howled, dropped to the ground, holding his head and curling into a ball. Stefan too, collapsed in pain. So did the last remaining vampire.

I dropped to my knees. "Stefan, Stefan what's wrong?"  
The nerves in his forhead protruded as he gritted his teeth in pain.

"Witch," he gasped. "Magic."

Damon was a writhing mass of pain on the ground. I raced off to him.

"Stop it," he pleaded. "Stop!"

"Stop it!" I hollered. "Stop hurting them, please!"

I got no response but Damon wasn't crying out in pain anymore. Slowly, he sat up and staggered to his feet.

"Ack! Who the hell was witchy ju-ju migraining me?" he growled. I let him lean on me, the scent of blood and fresh kill bombarding my senses. I steeled myself. "You okay, Damon?"

He winced a little. "Yeah. You?"

I nodded and looked to Stefan who was making his way to us.

The sole survivor of the vampires stood up, reminding Damon of his existence and unfinshed business.

"Excuse me," he told me with a grin. "But I've got a vampire to take care of."

Reluctantly, I let him go. The vampire was ready to bolt when a stake pierced through his heart. We all watched, shocked as he crumbled, body turning a sickening shade of gray.

"What the..."Stefan whispered.

A lady stood four feet away, crossbow aimed at the spot the vampire had been occupying. She was tall, with long blond hair and bottle green eyes.

Damon made a dash for her. Stefan and I called after him but he ignored us. She hit him square in the shoulder, sending him to the ground and then Salvatore brothers were screaming again in pain, clutching their heads.

"Stop," I told her. "Don't hurt them."

The woman stopped. And then she smiled at me. And I smiled back.

"Mom," I breathed.

"You alright there, Charlie?" she asked. I nodded, teary eyed. "Good." Damon gave me a look that could only be described as _what the fuck._

Mom turned to Mary, who had stopped whimpering. She raised her crossbow, aimed at her and shot it straight through the left eye.

"Rot in hell," my mom said to her. "You bitch.

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**Reviews and constructive criticism much appreciated.**

**xoxoxoxoxo**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Vampire Diaries. Only my OCs.

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_**Some mothers are kissing mothers and some are scolding mothers, but it is love just the same, and most mothers kiss and scold together. ~Pearl S. Buck**_

It's amazing what vampire blood can do. I was sure I'd have scars and bruises all over my body but as I checked myself in the mirror, my skin was smooth and spotless. Emerging from the bathroom, I smiled at the sight of my mom, lying on the bed, flipping through a paperback. We were back at the Salvatore boarding house. Stefan insisted that I stay the night, just in case. Besides, I was feeling exhausted and could really use some sleep.

Mom cracked open one eye. "Mr. Goody-two-shoes left some clean clothes for you by the chair over there."

I picked up a black t-shirt and sweat shorts. "Will you quit callin' him that?" I dressed. "He has a name, ma. It's Stefan."

"I like him. He's nice. And handsome. And when I say Mr. Goody-two-shoes it's a term of endearment."

I let my wet hair down and draped the towel over a chair-back. "Yeah. Stefan is a great guy." I went to the bed and threw myself on it. "A great _friend_," I said for emphasis.

"Which is why I haven't staked him yet," she admitted. I lay down, facing her. She picked a curl and started to play with it, the familiar touch of her hand lulling me to sleep.

"I can't believe you've kept all of this from me,"I said accusingly.

"It was to keep you safe."

"You're a witch?" She nodded. "How?"

"My father was a warlock." Mom gazed up at the ceiling and let out a sigh. "All my life I've repressed my powers. They're weak but I've practiced." She grinned and turned to me. "Comes in handy when a vampire pisses the hell out you."

"I have friend," I told her. "Bonnie. She's a witch. Quite strong too. Maybe you could pick up a few pointers from her."

She was quiet for a moment. "How did you get involved with the Salvatore brothers?"

I mirrored her position and looked up at the ceiling. "Stefan goes to my school. He's a friend." I didn't think it was my place to tell her about Elena's relationship with him. But mom saw right through it.

"Stefan and Elena are dating, right?"

I scoffed. "What would make you think that?"

"Maybe the way she ran into his arms the moment he came through the door."

I looked at her. "You saw that. It lasted like two seconds."

"Did you forget who you're talkin' to?"

A knock on the door interrupted whatever retort I had in mind. I sat up and smiled at Stefan. He was leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets. He smiled back.

"Just wanted to check up on you," he explained. "How are you feeling?"

"Bone-tired but otherwise, I'm fine."

He glanced at mom. "And you, Mrs. Sanders?"

Mom snorted and got off the bed. "I can easily give you an aneurysm." He raised his eyebrows. "So I wouldn't worry yet. And call me Jessica."

"Sure. Um...Elena's fixing some food for you, Charlie. You gotta eat so why don't you come downstairs when you're comfortable."

I swung my legs off the bed and got up. My stomach started grumbling loudly at the thought of food. I realized that I haven't had anything to eat since lunch at school when Damon broke West's hand. God, that seemed like a life-time ago.

A spicy aroma filled my nostrils when we got downstairs. I groaned when I took a whiff.

"Hope you haven't lost your appetite," Elena told me as I entered the kitchen. "I'm making you comfort food. Lord knows you need it."

I sat down at the table. "It's been the longest day of my life. I deserve this."

She stirred a pot with a wooden spoon. "I remember when I found out that vampires existed, it felt as if someone pushed me off the edge of a cliff and I was just free-falling." She turned around. "And I only wished for one thing, that someone, _anyone_ would catch me and break the fall."

"I know what you mean," I said softly. "I feel like Alice, plummeting down the rabbit hole."

"It gets better," she promised with determination in her eyes. "And until then, my cooking skills are at your disposal."

A hurricane of emotion swept through me but the strongest was gratitude. I was grateful that had a friend like her, who genuinely cared for me. Elena had been waiting for me in driveway and as soon as she saw me, grabbed me in a choke-hold, thanking God that I was safe and sound.

Mom and Stefan finished their tour of the house before taking a seat at the table. The front door slammed shut, announcing Damon's arrival. He had stayed back, cleaning up the mess. I didn't ask how. I didn't want to know. He walked into the kitchen and whistled.

"How very domestic." He made a camera with his fingers. "Kodak moment right here."

Elena set one more plate for him. He sat down at the empty chair on my right. I tensed up, recalling the show-down at the woods. The new side of Damon that I hadn't known about.

The true side.

"You fixed everything?" Stefan asked him.

Elena moved around the table, doling out generous amount of pasta. My mouth watered.

"Yep," Damon replied. "Oh and Elena, it hurts me to tell you that your car's dead." He threw me a side-long glance. "Totaled. Those vampires did a number on it."

"I don't care about that heap of junk." She filled my plate and went to Damon's. "Charlie's well-being is all that matters. Right?"

They glared at each other. Finally he conceded with an eye roll. "Of course. Shortie's death would have been _tragic."_

I ignored him but lightly stepped on mom's foot. I could tell by the grip she had on her fork that she was itching to stab him.

Typical Damon. One second hot and cold the next.

It was as if the tenderness he showed earlier had all been my imagination.

I focused on shoveling food in my mouth. I ate without tasting, chewed without thought and swallowed on auto-pilot.

"Pasta Puttanesca," Damon spoke to no one in particular. "Did you know it literally means Slut's spaghetti."

_"Damon!" _Elena cried. "You're being rude."  
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I offend you?" he asked mom, voice dripping with sarcasm, eyes flashing in a challenge.

Mom's nostrils flared. "Maybe I should shoot a stake so far up your ass that - "

"Mom, ignore him," I interrupted her rant. "He's a dick. Don't waste your breath." I glared at him. "He's still smarting from earlier."

His smile could cut glass. "Careful Charlie, you still have my blood in your veins. I could snap your neck in a second and you'd wake up a vampire."

My heart thumped loudly.

"I'd end you before you lifted a finger," Stefan told his brother coldly. I gasped when his fingers wrapped tightly around my neck cutting off my oxygen supply.

"Damon no!" Elena cried.

"One move," he hissed at Stefan. "And she's gone."

I clawed at his hands with my stubby fingers but he only tightened his grip.

"D-Damon," I stammered. "P-please, don't do this."  
Stefan was on his feet, weighing his options but he didn't get to figure it out because Damon bent over in pain, grabbing his head. Mom picked a deadly looking knife from the counter and my eyes got huge.

"Mom..."

She crouched over, held his limp body by the collar of his shirt and buried the knife deep into his stomach. I closed my eyes and turned away. Stefan watched stonily.

"You don't talk to my daughter that way and expect me to let it slide." Damon groaned and coughed. "Next time it will be a vervain tipped stake through the heart. You got that?"

I heard Damon's body fall with a thud before mom walked away. I peeked through the gaps between my fingers as Damon pulled out the knife and dropped it on the floor. Pushing back the chair, I ran after my mother, having already lost appetite. I found her pacing in the guest room, her face red with anger.

Guess we all know where I got my temper from.

"He wouldn't do it," I told her, rubbing my neck.

Mom stopped and stared at me. "What?"

"Damon wouldn't have killed me."

She narrowed her eyes. "I've heard of him, you know. Everywhere he goes, bodies follow him. He's not Stefan, baby-cakes. He's a real monster."

I don't know why I was defending him but I found myself doing it anyway. I shook my head. "No ma. He just wants people to think that he's a monster. It's his way of keeping people at arm's length."

"By killing them?"

I didn't have an answer for that. "He wouldn't have saved me earlier just to have me become a vampire."

Mom drew in closer with her arms crossed. "You wouldn't know that. Didn't you just figure out he's a vampire today?" Her eyes softened. "You know what, let's just drop this. He's learned his lesson and he won't try anything funny on you." She hugged me tightly and swayed us. "You need to rest. Tomorrow's a whole new day and all your questions can wait till then."

"You're right." I went to bed and settled in.

"Want me to crawl in with you, Charls?"

I nodded and scooted over.

I feel asleep to her soft contralto singing about rainbows and blue birds.

Damon stripped of his shirt, flinging it across the room and studied himself in the mirror. His pale skin was flawless again. He had a hard time believing that a Morrison bitch had stabbed him and that she was living to tell the tale.

_You deserved it, dick-head._

He hated that voice. The rational, humane, Stefan-like voice that haunted his mind. But he admits - don't get carried away folks, it's only in his head. Damon Salvatore admits that his earlier action was very much out of the line and uncalled for. Threatening to turn the already traumatized girl and getting physical about it, wasn't one of his finest moments. And so, to make up for it, he won't rip her mother's heart out.

He took a quick shower, washing away the dirt and blood and stench of the fight he had today. A small grin formed on his features. It's been a while since he felt this rush. Playing the good guy has seriously brought down his game.

Voices floated up the floorboards of his room as he changed his clothes. Stefan was profusely apologizing for his brother's actions. The Morrison bitch was brushing it aside. Mundane chatter ensued. The woman then began to grill Stefan and Elena on their relationship.

Damon chuckled when he heard her threaten to stake Stefan's balls.

If he didn't hate witches and the Morrison family, he'd confess and say that Charlie's mom was one bad-ass woman.

Charlie.

_She might never want to talk me ever again,_ he thought. Can't blame her after the stunt he pulled. As if his legs grew brains of their own, they led him to the girl's room. The door was open and so he didn't feel creepy about sneaking into her room. The petite girl was curled up in the middle of the four-poster bed, in a fetal position, her hair fanning out all over the pillows. He could make out the bruises where he gripped her neck.

_Dickhead_, his inner Stefan hissed.

Damon still didn't know why he did what he did. Maybe because she had hit a nerve; he_ was_ still smarting from being staked and withcy migrained. And he had waited for an excuse to attack someone, anyone, and unfortunately, it was Charlie who got hurt in the process.

_So what_, he scoffed silently. _I've done a lot worse to people who had done less to me. I turned Matt's sister because I had been bored and now I'm obsessing over why_ _I had hurt this one girl. Get a _grip_, man. _

So yes, the girl had some uncanny way of knowing which of his buttons to push. Or maybe because it was Stefan who threatened him and what kind of brother would he be if he didn't acknowledge a challenge when he saw one. Damon Salvatore, Mr. Never-Back-Down-er.

The girl mumbled incoherently as she fidgeted in her sleep. Soon her whole body seemed to tremble. Damon moved closer to the bed, torn between walking away or trying to make it better. And when his ears picked up the one intelligible word from her ramblings, he knew he had to stay, whether he liked it or not.

_Damon_.

Fuck, she even calls out to him in her sleep. It's one thing to save her ass when she's awake and being attacked but now she wanted him to be her metaphorical dream catcher and help her with the nightmares.

_You know you want to_, inner Stefan urged him. _Remember how worried you were when you saw the wrecked car._

Damon closed his eyes, trying to remove the image from his head. But it was burned into his brain, playing again and again, on a loop. When they got home earlier, he noticed how weird she had acted. Jumpy, fretting and all over the place. When she walked out the door and he went to his room, he could smell her in his room. He could smell her all over the house and the basement. Nancy Drew had put two and two together and figured that they were vampires.

He followed her with the thought of confronting her but as he drove into the town,he spotted the familiar RAV4, upturned with smoke billowing out of the front hood and the windows were smashed. He vividly recalls the panic swelling in his chest and when he rushed to it, blood smeared the windshield and the inside of the car. Three words swirled in his head.

_Elena._

_Car._

_Blood._

When his phone rang, he picked it up without a glance and the familiar voice of Elena filled his ears. She was hysterical, screaming on and on about vampire attack but Damon was relieved. Elena was safe. It wasn't her blood. She didn't get into an accident.

_Charlie_.

And to prove his point, he could hear her scream from the woods. Later on he blamed Elena's hysteria and his earlier assumption that it was her, for the reason he had run so fast to get to the girl.

He didn't care about her. No. Like Isobel pointed out, Damon possibly loved Elena.

But the moment he burst through the bushes and saw her crumpled body on the floor, all rhyme and reason evaporated. It all came down to one universal fact: Charlie was not moving.

Even the scent of her blood, which he always found intoxicating, didn't tempt him. Her face pale, her pulse achingly slow and blood freely flowing, Damon was ashamed to admit that his fingers trembled when he touched her cheek.

So he had taken it all out on the blond bitch of a vampire. His methods were a little too excessive but there was so much rage simmering just beneath his skin that he had to let out. There was that familiar urge to just kill, to _destroy,_ and what better way than to channel all of his frustration out on the vampire. And as he drove stake after stake in her body, he was growling, in a deep and scary voice.

_Mine. Mine. Mine._

Nobody messes with Damon Fucking Salvatore and the extremely exclusive circle of people who inhabit his world. Charlie, in some sick twist of fate, went from his hit-list to the people he actually cared about. The thought of her snide remarks and witty one-liner never being heard again screwed with his head and heart in five different ways.

When he was feeding her his blood, he ignored her whimpering and forced her. He didn't know how badly injured she was. Whether there were internal injuries or not. All he knew was that, his blood would save her. And if it was too late...he took comfort in knowing she'd be back, in a different kind, but there nonetheless.

Charlie Sanders has managed to get under his skin and he can't shake her off. He doesn't want to. Reluctantly, he smoothed his knuckles over her warm cheek as she snored softly. Her lashes fluttered and she rearranged herself in bed. Damon brushed back the stray, wet curl from her face. He could smell himself in her body, _his_ blood pumping in her system. His. It did funny things to his dead and cold heart.

"She's having a nightmare."

Damon retracted his hand as if he got burnt by vervain.

Shit.

He had a tendency of forgetting his surroundings when he thought of Charlie.

Her witchy mother was regarding him carefully from the door, arms crossed tightly, radiating fierce possessiveness, something he was familiar with.

Damon rolled his eyes. "Just making sure she doesn't die on us and becomes a vampire." He hoped he put enough scorn to make it believable.

Morrison bitch pushed off from the wall and walked inside, eyes softening when they landed on her daughter. "She's had one hell of a day."

Damon could see where Charlie had inherited her beauty from. Morrison witch was hot, in that kick-ass, spunky way. Objectively speaking, of course.

He made a move to walk out but she stepped in front of him and put a hand to his chest. She was a head shorter but what she lacked in height, she made up for it with courage. No one stabs him and then gets into his face.

"What is it, witch?" he grumbled.

"I need a favor."

He laughed. "Are you kidding me?"

She glared at him, hard. It struck him how identical it was to the many glares Charlie gave him. They even had the same eyes.

"It's for Charlie," she spoke softly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "She's been through a lot today. All our lives, her father and I fought to keep her sheltered from this." She cut him a look. "We wanted her to have a normal life, free of death and carnage. And you and me both know that this life -_your_ life- is one of constant bloodshed and horror."

He shrugged. "So, it's a given."

He watched her remove the ankle bracelet and a sick feeling started in his stomach. He knew what was coming. She would ask him to _fix_ her. To make the pain go away. And it hit him, if he compelled her to forget, she wouldn't know him. Not the way she knew him now, not the way he wanted her to know him.

Charlie's mother held out the bracelet to him and he accepted it.

"You want me to compel her to forget," he stated flatly, but his eyes were intense.

She ducked her head. "It's for the best."

He scoffed. "For who? You or her? You can't rid her of her free will just to make yourself feel better."

She shook her head. "I have to. She can't handle this."

"Charlie is strong. Give her some credit, she took all of this in stride."

"Why are you against it?" she wanted to know.

_Yeah, why do you care?_ he thought to himself. _Her mother wants her to forget. Who are you to say no?_

He remembers very clearly when it was a distraught Elena who had asked him to fix her brother. The boy took an one-eighty turn and a complete personality change. Damon didn't want that for Charlie. No Charlie was better than a different Charlie.

_Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that._

Besides, when he compelled her to forget their shared kiss, he found out that he wasn't the first to compel her. Back then it had spiked his curiosity but he forgot it in the ensuing mayhem that was his life. He couldn't tell when it happened or who did it, but he could bet his life_...dead _life that she had had her memory wiped. There was some sort of memory block in her.

Charlie was muttering in her sleep, tossing and turning in bed. He cut his eyes to her mother. "This isn't the first time, is it?"

Surprised, she blinked for a few minutes before nodding.

"When?"

"Once when she was little. We were attacked by vampires and she saw it first-hand." The witch blinked back furiously. "They fed on her," she spat. "Nearly killed her. It effected her bad. Nightmares, hallucinations, anxiety, you name it. And she was only four."

Damon's hands clenched tightly. He dug his nails into his palm, focusing on that pain instead of the roar in his head.

_Four._

"And once when she was thirteen," the witch continued. "One vampire hell-bent on vengeance for what our ancestor did broke into my office. He was after me but found her instead. Luckily her father was there and got rid of it." She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "I don't want her to suffer."

He was being selfish, he knew. Damon always thought of himself before anyone else. It's just the way he was. So instead of looking out for the best of Charlie, he wondered how he compelling her would affect him.

He stepped back. "I'm sorry but I think she has a right to choose. Ask her, lay down the options and if she's willing, I'll be there," he spoke through numb lips. With that, he spun on heels, ready to bolt of the room.

"Wait..." she called after him.

He stopped and faced her. She was watching Charlie struggling in her sleep. "Isn't there anything you could do for her? Anything to lessen the pain?"

There would be time, later on, for self-loathing and disgust but for now, he had to do this. He informed the mother in ten words or less, kicked off his shoes and got into bed with the girl. As if sensing him, she angled her body towards him and Damon draped one arm around her waist, pulling her close. When the room went dark, he closed his eyes, clutching her small hand and with his mind, transported her into a series of memories that would warm his heart if he wasn't who he was.

Damon Salvatore, the dick.

Damon Salvatore, the killer.

Damon Salvatore, the vampire.

* * *

**A/N:** First order of business, I wanna thank each and everyone of you who took time to read and review my story. You're awesome and make my day. You really do.

Also, I think Damon was a little OOC in this chapter. Keep in mind though this was the bad-ass, no nonsense, major dick-head Damon who wouldn't hesitate to stake Lexi. That guy was a vintage sociopath so him choking Charlie isn't too far-fetched. And since this is taking place at the very end of season one, he's getting a lil bit softer and trying to redeem himself.

Off topic ramble: After much contemplation, I started watching The Secret Circle. Only because I'm a big TVD fan so I decided to check it out. For those of you who have no clue what I'm talking about, The Secret Circle is a tv show adapted from the book series of the same name (I think?) written by L.J. Smith. Anywho, I watched the first episode and...I dunno. I thought it was rushed and the magic aspect of it was..._bleh_. I've gotten used to grimoires and incantations in Latin (a la Supernatural) and Kelley Armstrong magic. But I do like the cast...at least the main character, Britt Robertson and Thomas Dekker. What are your thoughts on that? Like it, love it, hate it?

I apologize for the long ramble, I sometimes get carried away.

**As always, reviews and constructive criticism is much appreciated.**

**xoxoxoxoxoxo**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I only own Charlie and Jessica Sanders and West Dylan. Rest belongs to their rightful owners.**

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_**"I don't need a friend who changes when I change and who nods when I nod; my shadow does that much better."-** Plutarch._

All my life I've heard people tell me that I'm my mother's daughter. Of course I'm, I used to think. She is my mother after all. But moving to this town really showed me the meaning behind those words.

Mom is a workaholic recluse. She hardly had any friends and I learnt about Jenna only a few months ago. She's quick-tempered, she's stubborn and she is beyond curious. persistent is another word I'd use to describe her.

Sounds familiar?

Thought so.

Dad used to always shake his head at our antics and plead with us to see therapists. He would pick our brains endlessly in the vain hope of that we'd grow as people. While we evoked dirty looks and potential law suits in people, Dad was a classic people person. You can bet a room would explode in laughter when dad's there. The very few family friends we had, they came from his end.

John Winchester and his boys. Jonathan Gilbert too. And a few other acquaintances we left back in New York.

Dad was the life of the party.

I don't know why I'm dwelling on him so much today. But when I hear mom and Jenna's laughter from downstairs, I can't help but think that if he was here, his deep rumble would wake the entire neighborhood.

Mom wouldn't tell me where she went. Wouldn't tell me what she's been doing. And as we strolled down the streets, she literally told me to forget about dad.

"If he was alive, don't you think he'd contact us, Charlie. It's been a year."

I argued that maybe dad's hurt, maybe he's suffering amnesia, maybe he's been held against his will. There could be a number of reasons why he isn't here, perfectly, plausible but scary reasons.

"Or he could be dead," she had replied curtly, putting an end to the discussion. I stormed off to the house, leaving her there to fume in silence. Getting into an argument with her after anxiously missing her for over two months was not what I had in mind for a welcome back bash but it should do.

I wasn't willing to give up on dad. I refuse to give up on him.

My low spirits clashed heavily with the festivities that surrounded me. Locals and tourist were all gathered around the Town Square, waiting for the party to begin. I went downstairs just in time to see Elena wearing an era dress, this big, burly thing that needed at least two people to fit her in. I might not be such a girl, but I knew she would stop traffic. Not in the mood to talk to mom or let Jenna witness the awkwardness between us, I marched out the front door, chasing after Elena.

"You look amazing," I told her. She smiled adorably, her doe eyes twinkling in excitement.

"Why, thank you, milady." She curtsied and I rolled my eyes. We walked through the bustling crowds towards the square.

I gestured with my hands at the podium and chairs and floats."I didn't know you enjoyed all of this."

She shrugged her bare shoulders and picked up her skirt. "Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't dream of it. But after everything we've been through, normal has never sounded better." She glanced at me. "It's what you need too. Did you sleep well last night?"

"Surprisingly yeah. I was sure I'd get nightmares but I didn't."

"That's a good thing, right"?

"Uh, I _think_ so."

"So how's West taking all of this?"

How about not answering-his-phone-bad. I swear that guy could be_ such_ a girl sometimes.

"I'm planning on dropping by his place after your float. I promised Caroline I wouldn't miss it or there would be consequences."

She rolled her eyes. At the square, we spotted Jeremy in his costume, faux soot and dirt caked in his face. I waved and he waved back smiling, but it dropped when he saw his sister. He scowled at her and stormed off before she could take one step in his direction. She groaned and dropped her head.

"Everything okay?" I asked, concerned.

She shook her head. "Normal doesn't sound good when you factor in emotional teens."

I followed Jeremy's back as he weaved through the ordered chaos that was this town's festival. Elena got called by one of Carol Lockwood's event manager and she excused herself. I aimlessly wandered around, eating cotton candy and milling in the crowd.

I'd lie if I said that yesterday's event hasn't rattled me. It did, pretty bad too. I was jumpy and jittery. I felt anyone who looked at me was secretly plotting my murder. I was paranoid.

"Didn't think you'd crawl out of bed any time soon?"

I willed my heart to calm down. "It's a brand new day. Gotta face it."

Damon's eyes were penetrating. "You know that bravado might work on the masses but I can hear your heart beat."

My bruised neck throbbed as if it recognized its tormentor. He was grinning. "You're scared."

"That tends to happen when you're standing next to someone who choked and threatened to kill you."

He rolled his eyes and stole some of my pink cotton candy. "You're still hung up on that. C'mon Shortie, it's a brand new day. Gotta face it," he quoted back at me. "Let bygones be bygones. Besides, your mother stabbed me. I think we're even."

"She stabbed you because you wanted to turn her daughter into a vampire. I think you deserved it."  
"You Morrisons," he said with a sigh. "You've absolutely no sense of humor."

I snorted. "Mom stuck a knife in your gut." I smiled. "I think we're funny. In a morbid way."

We stayed silent for a while, each in his own head. Damon took a pen out of his pocket.

"So this little gadget of yours..." he began.

I reached for it but he pulled it over his head. "What now?"

"All I've to do is put it somewhere and it will work?"

Frowning, I crossed my arms. "Yeah. You'll need the radio and recorder."

"And I take it that it's in your possession?"

"Yep. But why do you need it?"

A smirk. "The sheriff's office."

I arched a brow. "You're bugging her office. Why?"

"I might be a vampire with enhanced hearing, but unfortunately, I can't be in two places at once." He brushed back a few of my curls with the pen. "I've to thank you for the brilliant idea."

I smiled at him. "Does that mean you'll stop calling me Nancy Drew?"

"Not so fast." He took another swipe at my candy. "I gotta go. Clandestine ops and all." With a wink, he spun on his heels and swaggered away.

_Shouldn't you be freaking out at his proximity_, the logical voice inside me shrieked. And I agree. A psychotic vampire should not be making the muscles in my stomach contract in a pleasurable way. Especially when I watched him literally rip out hearts and mutilate bodies.

While saving me.

I wanted to kick myself. The last thing I need is to become the idiotic heroine in romance novels who lust after monsters with zero sense of self-preservation.

Damon Salvatore was a cocky, blood sucking, womanizing dick-head. Pigs will have to fly before I roll over for him.

"Charlie!"

Caroline was waving enthusiastically, dressed in a yellow dress, Matt right behind her. I went over to them just as she roped Bonnie into taking her photo.

"What's up?" I asked them with a smile. I envied their oblivion.

"Caroline," Matt mouthed behind her, rolling his eyes.

I stood beside Bonnie. "How are you doing?"

She gave me a small smile. "Better. Now that things are back to the way they were supposed to be."

"I don't buy it. You're definitely not okay."

She was silent for a while. "I just miss Grams, is all. It's the first Founders Day that I'm attending without her."

I felt for the girl. I really did. Her grandma was what mom was to me. And I couldn't even begin to fathom what life without her would be.

Bonnie raised the camera to her eye. "Say cheese."

"Wait, wait, wait," Caroline interrupted, staring at her boyfriend's broken arm. "Hide the cast. It's not era appropriate."

Matt gave her a look. "Seriously."

"Yes."

But he caved and smiled. "Okay. Come here.". No one could withstand Hurricane Caroline, not even the captain of the football team. Tyler approached us in trepidation.

"Okay, now one with Bonnie and Charlie."

"Here I can take it," Tyler said, plucking the camera out of Bonnie's hand. Matt's good mood fell instantly and I nervously looked between the two former best friends.

"I'll be on the float," was all Matt said before walking away.

Tyler scoffed. "I said I was sorry."

"You made out with his mother and then beat him to a pulp," Caroline accused him. "You're going to have to do a little bit better than sorry." With that, she chased after her boyfriend.

When I looked back, Bonnie had disappeared, leaving me to deal with a crest fallen Lockwood.

"So..." I began with no idea how to comfort someone, but he too stormed off. "Great. Suddenly everyone has somewhere to be."

I aimlessly wandered around, bathing in the sunlight, letting the calm of the day settle in me. Things would be better from now on, I told myself. Mom's here, the vengeful vampires were taken care of and the Jonathan Gilbert device was dispelled. Come Monday, it'd be the regular school, gossip and teen angst. I'd make a conscious effort to experience them all, just like I promised West yesterday.

Speaking of West, I dialed his number again and it went straight to voice-mail. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to barge into his house and demand him to talk to me. Poor guy must really be freaking out right now.

The voice of Carol Lockwood cut through my reverie. She stood at the podium, welcoming everyone with a big smile.

"Let's give a hand to the Mystic Falls high school marching band."

Applause erupted all around me. I moved through the crowd, wanting to get closer to the street.

"And for a little local history," Mrs. Lockwood carried on when the marching band passed. "Mr. Saltzman's students have recreated Virginia's battle of Willow Creek."

I squinted in the sun, finding myself smile at the familiar faces of Jeremy and Tyler who were playing nineteenth century soldiers. Surprisingly, I was having fun, yesterday's horror long forgotten.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our stunning Miss Mystic Falls court and their handsome escorts"

I cheered along, invigorated by the crowd. I waved at Elena and Caroline and they waved back. Stefan stood awkwardly behind her, a small smile on his lips.

"This is Caroline Forbes, Miss Mystic Falls." More cheers. "Aren't they beautiful." The spectators agreed. So did I. I watched their float drive away and disappear around the corner before turning to leave. I saw Damon speaking with Bonnie who seemed speechless.

_At least they are not getting at each other's throat_.

West lived a good ten minutes away from The Gilbert's house. His place was twice the size of ours, and was neighbors with the Lockwoods. I had only been there twice and never met his mother. West hardly saw her. His mother was a socialite, a posse of Carol Lockwood and her elite circle. According to him, he was raised by a string of nannies and nurses. West was a sickly child, all sorts of allergies and ailments hitting him.

I rang the doorbell and one of the helps opened with a smile. She smiled at me, recognizing me for West's friend and ushered me inside.

"He's upstairs," she simply said and walked away. I glanced around the house, taking in the expensive tapestries, the white marble tiles and the portraits that hung on every other corner. A huge chandelier completed the look. Very Vogue-_esqe_. I jogged up the winding staircase and without knocking, burst through his room, for dramatic effect.

West spun around, wide-eyed and open mouthed from his place at the window.

"You've been ignoring my calls," I stated without preamble, adopting my most pissed off voice.

He let out a breath and dragged his palm across his face wearily. "What the hell?" he groaned. "You scared the living bejesus outta me. Ever heard of knocking."

Silently, I moved and sat on his bed, all the while subtly studying his features. He had shadows beneath the shadows under his eyes, which were bloodshot and his cheeks lacked their usual rosy color. He was dressed in shorts and a red sleeveless shirt.

"You look like crap," I told him, settling in his comfy bed. I swear, this guy's bed is otherworldly. "Actually, this whole place looks like a pig pen." Wrappers of chips and cookies littered the floor along with take-out boxes. The study desk that was always tidy and organized was covered completely with clothes and newspapers. Reaching under the bed, I pulled out empty beer bottles and laid them down on his nightstand.

It was like a bomb went off in the room.

West didn't move from his spot. He was avoiding my gaze.

"I got attacked by five vampires last night," I dropped nonchalantly.

His back stiffened. "What?" He rushed over to me.

In the next ten minutes, I filled him in with great details everything that he missed. I also told him about my mother's arrival and her witch heritage. When I reached the part in the woods and Stefan and Damon's fight, his grip on my hand tightened. A fierce look passed his face but it disappeared quickly.

"Charlie," he began, voice hoarse. "I...I...if I knew what happened to you - "

I pressed a finger against his lips. "Hush you! It's all said and done. I'm fine. The Salvatores took care of the problem. Mom's back and things can go back to normal." A pause. "Or as normal as it could get under the circumstances."

When he didn't respond and smile back, I sat up straighter and ducked my head to catch his eye. "West, what's going on? If this is about the fight we had yesterday...then don't worry about it."  
"It's not about that," he muttered, reaching over me to the nightstand.

"Then what is it? Are you feeling guilty?" I watched him swallow two Tylenol pills without washing anything with it. He laughed, but it lacked humor. "Ah, Charlie, this, for once, has nothing to do with you."

I frowned, disturbed by his voice. "Don't take that tone with me, vato!"

He jumped out of the bed. "I'm sorry. It's...I've been ...the past two days," He stopped and shook his head. "Scratch that, the past month was been crazy."

"Your dad?" I guessed. He nodded stiffly, shoulders tense.

He faced me. "I confronted him last night."

"Oh West..."

"I tol' him I knew vampires were real. That they exist. That they were here in Mystic Falls." He let out a deep breath. "Couple of days ago, I went through his room, tore it apart. And there was this loose floor board. I never noticed it before because I hardly ever entered his room. Mom never let me." He snickered. "God, the things I found when I pulled back the rug. You'd think I was in an episode of the _Twilight Zone._ Get this, there was a trap door. Yeah, an _actual_ trap door and inside...weapons of all kinds. I'm talkin' about guns, grenade looking things, cross-bows and assortments of knives."

I reached out, gently rubbing his back soothingly. "That must have been a shock."

"I actually entertained the idea that my father was a serial killer."

"So what did you do?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. I closed the door, covered it up and began spying on the guy. That's when I heard him say vampires to someone on the phone."

I nodded. "And then yesterday happened." I waited for a bit. "Did he deny, when you told him about the vampires?"

West shook his head. "No. He said it's been a long time comin'. Now I had to follow his footsteps. Take my share of the family responsibility."

"By becoming a hunter?"

_"Vampire_ hunter." He chuckled. "What the fuck is that, huh? Vampires, witches, hunters and next thing you know, werewolves will be in the picture. I mean, what the hell happened to high school and girls and football and parties." He brushed my hand off and went back to his bed, resting his elbows on his knees. "I didn't ask for this. I was happy the way my life was. Now dad comes rolling in, says he's taking me away to train me."

"Wait. What? You're leaving."

"Not like I've got much of choice," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There are vampires in this town. I don't plan on being their chew-toy anytime soon. If there's something I could do about that, I will."

I tried not to panic. Tried really hard. "The tomb vampires are gone, West. And the remaining once were taken care of last night."

"By_ other_ vampires," he added. "Stefan and Damon. The vampire brothers."

"They saved my life," I retorted.

"So you trust them? Trust them enough to stay in this messed up town, going to school, sitting like a duck."

I let out a sigh and kneaded my temples. This was so not the conversation I had in mind when I came over. It was a bit presumptuous of me to expect him to react like I did. Start from denial and skip all the way to acceptance. West was stuck somewhere between denial and anger. I didn't blame him. When you've a perfect life and wake to figure that there are things that go bump in the night, it messes you up.

Any sane person would have taken a few days off to think things through.

Which leads me to seriously doubt my mental state.

West behaviour was very much normal, considering the bomb that had gone of in his head. His hunter of a father who was pressuring him didn't help things. I wondered I had done wrong by revealing Damon and Stefan's identities. What if he told Mr. Dylan and he outed them to them to the Council. It'd be all my fault.

Here I was, standing in my best friend's room, who was distraught and desperate, and I was worrying about other people.

I'm the worst best friend. Ever.

Wordlessly, I sat beside him and took his uninjured hand and gave it a squeeze. "You're right," I said softly. "This is insane. It's crazy. It's out-of-this whack and you need time to get things into perspective. You never know, going away from Mystic Falls might just be the thing you need." He looked at me, a rueful smile on his lips. "So go. Go and relax and figure things out. And when it's time, come back home."

West hesitated. "You sure? What...what if you need me?"

I would need him. Lord only knows how much. West had been with me every step of the way, ever since I got here. But now, at the rate he was going, he'd end up dead either by liver failure or drunk driving. A good friend knew when to make sacrifices and this would be my first act of selflessness.

So I smiled through the pain, convinced him to leave and helped him clean and pack, all the while regretting it.

* * *

**A/N: So, another chapter. Expect action packed chapters since this is the season finale we're talking about.**

**In other news: I realized that inserting OCs in an already existing plot, like the Founder's Day scenes is not my strongest forte. I feel more confident and comfortable when Charlie has her own thing going on. That's because the show is so awesome and the characters are amazing and the lines are spot on. So writing in another character and working around that is difficult, especially since it would pale in comparison to what the writers of the show come up with. That said, I tried hard and hope you liked it.**

**With every review, a tomb vampire dies. Proven fact.**

**xoxoxoxo**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** I wish I owned the Vampire Diaries. However, Charlie Sanders belongs to me.

* * *

_**All you touch and all you see, is all your life will ever be - Pink Floyd, Breathe.**_

"Honey, you're home early."

I slammed my closet shut upon hearing mom's voice and faced her.

She was watching me suspiciously, her stance casual but it was all in the eyes.

"Well, I watched my friends' floats and came back home." I forced a smile. "You know how I don't like those things."

She didn't buy it, but didn't push either. She probably thought I was still fuming from our conversation in the morning.

Mom let out sigh. "I just wanna know if you're alright, that's all."

I was feeling irritable, emotionally drained. The snarky part of my personality fighting to come through. I repressed it, gritting my teeth.

"I'm just tired," I explained to her. "Everything is kinda catching up to me."

She nodded. "If- if you feel like talkin' to anyone, you know I'll be there."

A bitter laugh escaped my throat. "Oh wow, that is _rich_ comin' from you, ma. Communication is a two-way street. You expect me to unload on you but when I ask questions, you clam up. You won't even tell me what the hell you've been doing?"

"I'm not having this conversation with - "

"See!" I shrieked, pointing an accusatory finger. "You're doing it again. Dad would never do that. Dad would lay down the fact all on the table. But then again, he was better at the parenting aspect than you. I don't even know why I'm surprised."  
Mom flinched, as if I had physically assaulted her. I could see the hurt in her eyes, but she covered it up quickly, the edges around her mouth hardening.

"Your father isn't here now," she replied coldly. "I'm the best you got."

Fury swept through my entire body like a hot summer breeze. Unconsciously, my palms fisted and shook by my side. How dare she be so blasé when it came to dad. To her husband. Dad with his loud booming voice and boyish smile. Dad with his tough guy exterior and heart of gold.

My voice was flat, detached, designed to inflict maximum pain.

"I've been here three months, doing fine without you." Mom's back stiffened. "I think I can manage until dad comes for me."

The color from her face drained, eyes moistening. I averted my gaze, lest I felt guilty and let her off the hook. Maybe I was being too harsh, maybe this all was misdirected rage but she deserved it. All of it.

All I had to do was think of my father and I could tell her awful things all day long. Without a word, she walked out of my room, closing the door behind her. When the sound of her footsteps faded, I sank down on the floor, leaning against the closet.

What the hell happened to my life?

Burying my face in my hands, the questions swirled around in my head. West was right. Our lives should have been about school dances and SAT and latest episodes of Gossip Girl. Instead, I was here, contemplating what went wrong in a town full of vampires and witches. My best friend is a vampire hunter and was leaving to continue the family legacy.

I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them. I wished I could turn myself into a small unfurling ball, shielding myself from the messed up world.

The beeping of my phone interrupted my wallowing in self-pity.

_Bring the radio to my place, Shortie._

I ignored the little flutter my heart made as I read the message from Damon. I also ignored the fact that Shortie brought a smile on my face. Heaving a long sigh, I got to my feet, knees popping as I stretched. I opened my closet and rummaged through it. I had stashed the radio, a small black one at the far back, shoved in one of the purses.

As soon as I found it, I jumped into my bed and switched it on. Come whatever, curiosity was my specialty . Deafening silence greeted me.

Serves me right.

I got up to change my shirt for a tank top. The heat had been almost unbearable today.

There was a loud knocking. I moved to open my door but then heard a familiar voice say, "Come on in."

My head snapped to the recorder.

_"Mayor Lockwood, Jon, what are you doing here?"_

It was the sheriff. Feeling almost giddy with excitement, I rushed over the bed.

"_We have a bit of a situation, Liz," Mayor said._

_"Vampires," Jon clarified. "Tomb vampires are running rampant in town. It's time we took the initiative like our forefathers and kill them."_

_"What are you suggesting?" she asked._

_"We kill them tonight."_

I sucked in my breath. Weren't they already killed?

_"Tonight?" Sheriff asked, sounding exasperated. "Are you kidding me? Tonight is the Founders Day."_

_"My point exactly," Jon said. "Poetic don't you think."_

_"Richard, are you agreeing to this?"_

_"Liz, you know I'm all for the eradication of vampires and Jon knows a way we can do that with least amount of casualties."_

_"I've obtained a Gilbert device," Jon spoke. "When activated, it will only work once, for an estimate time of five minutes. It will emit a high-pitched frequency that humans can't hear. Any vampire in five block radius will be incapacitated, exposing them. At that time, your deputies sheriff, will inject them with vervain and bring them to the old Gilbert building and I will finish them off."_

My head throbbed and my heart rate increased as I absorbed their conversation. Tonight...tonight. But the device wasn't supposed to work. Bonnie had rendered it useless.

The sky beyond the window was dark, street lights on. There was no time.

_"You wanna use our town as bait?" Sheriff Forbes asked in disbelief. "That's too dangerous. It's insane."_

_"We've gone over the plan with your deputies and they are all on board," Mayor Lockwood informed her._

I could hear the distinct sound of a door closing.

_"You've gone behind me?"_

_"Yeah, because we knew this is exactly how you'd react."  
"Our children are here."  
"Liz we need to do this," Uncle Jon interjected. "We have no choice. This is reason for the secret Council. Our founding fathers created the secret Council for just this purpose."_

A tense silence ensued. I fumbled for my purse and phone, ready to bolt out. To warn Elena and Stefan and Damon. Oh God, Stefan and Damon had to get out of there.

_"I'm the Sheriff and that's my call," she finally said terse voice, "And I say no."_

_"Richard, let me speak to the Sheriff alone," Uncle Jon suggested._

A door opens and shuts.

_"Jon, you're not thinking clearly," Sheriff Forbes said. "I'm not gonna change my mind about this."_

She suddenly let out a moan of pain and there was a loud _thud,_ something heavy hitting the ground. I stared at the radio, anxiously waiting for someone to say anything. But all I heard was clattering of keys and footsteps and nothing else.

I didn't need to confirm my suspicion. I just knew. The sheriff wouldn't be able to stop their plan.

I had to do something about it.

* * *

Hundreds and hundreds of people were milling around the town square, eagerly awaiting the fireworks. I ran like I've never run before, pushing through the throngs of people, ignoring their curses of outrage and anger. A single thought was wrapped in my head.

Get Damon and Stefan away from here. Good riddance to the rest.

But I couldn't find any of them. No sign of Elena or Bonnie or the brothers. The mayor was sitting on the stage, his wife by his head, smiling at the crowd. Just when I was about to lose hope, I spotted the golden hair and tall frame of my mom. I rushed to her side.

"Mom," I breathed. She took one look at my face and any anger she held evaporated.

"Charlie, what's wrong?"

Tugging the sleeve of her jacket, I dragged her away from the crowd and without beating around bush, told her everything. I could tell she wasn't impressed with the idea that I've spied on the sheriff but she brushed it aside. One thing I always admired about her was that she was extremely quick on her feet. She had improvisation down to a science. Whatever reserves she had of Damon and Stefan, or vampires in general, she let it go.

She grabbed my shoulders. "You listen to me, baby. I'll take the grill and the west end. You search here and here only, you hear me. The square_ only_."  
I shook my head, stubborn streak flying in the air. "I've already done that, ma. I can't find them."  
"Well, look again."  
"But what - "

"Charlie!" she snapped, her tone final. "You check and you check again. And if you're seriously convinced they aren't here, then and only then do you take a quick sweep a block from here."

I nodded vigorously, pleased that we've reached some compromise. Mom smiled sadly. "Stay safe, babe."

I hugged her and whispered, "Sorry about earlier."

"It's okay." She patted my head. "Rendezvous here in thirty, alright." With that, she walked away, an air of confidence around her.

As I weaved through the crowds, I didn't see a single familiar face. Foregoing the square, I raced through the packed streets, hopping into the shops and cafes, in the slight chance that they might have entered one or the other, all the while dialing their numbers. No one answered. What the hell is wrong with everyone?

I glanced at my watch. I still had a little under ten minutes left. I decided to check out the Gilbert house which was located just two blocks north of square. Instead of walking in front of it, I took the back alley. The Mayor's voice accompanied me as he gave his speech from the square. It was so loud, I bet every household in town could hear him.

_"For one hundred and fifty years, Mystic Falls has been the kinda town that everybody wants to call home."_

A man in a bright orange shirt appeared at the other end, swaggering down the alley. I felt for my taser, grip tightening, every muscle in my body tensing.

_"Safe, prosperous, welcoming. And we have the Founders to thank for that."_

A sly grin crept upon the man's features. His tongue darted out, running across his lower lip. As he got closer, I could see something manic behind his eyes. Something feral. I felt a familiar shudder run through my body.

_"That's why I like to dedicate this evening's firework display to their legacy."_

Vaguely, in the distance, I could hear cheers and applause but it was muffled, drowned out by the erratic thumping of my heart.

The man's grin grew.

_Vampire_ my brain warned me.

He had probably been following me this entire time.

Mayor Lockwood told the crowd to "_Enjoy the show!"_

"Charlotte Morrison," the vampire drawled.

The fireworks erupted, coloring the sky with a kaleidoscope of colors. Red, green, blue and yellow. The Mystic Falls population were roaring in appreciation.

I stopped walking, took in a long, deep breath. If I screamed loud enough, maybe uncle Jon would hear me.

_Not tonight_.

Not through the on-going celebration. The vampire was taking his sweet time. Playing with his food. Dragging on the game of cat and mouse.

I blinked away the tears of frustration, willed my body to stop trembling. It came down to either fight or flight. I could do neither but I'll be damned if I didn't try either.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the vampire warned me, taking in my stance. He was only five feet away. "Didn't ya mamma teach ya. Chasing is our favorite hobby."

I bolted, feet slapping the asphalt loudly. I didn't get far enough before something heavy sent me crashing against the brick wall of the building. There was a loud _thwack_ as my head connected to the wall. I rebounded and fell to the ground, head pounding and vision blurring. The vampire dropped to his knees, mouth open in agony as he clutched his head, his wild eyes boring into mine.

I knew what was happening. They had activated the device. They were rounding up vampires.

I have to warn Stefan and Damon.

I have to get up.

I have to save myself.

But I was weak. I was helpless. I was tired and sleepy and just wanted to lie down. The vampire kept shrieking, blood pouring out of his ears.

_That's right you son of a bitch. You had it coming._

I forced my eyes to open and I saw feet walking towards me. Booted and disembodied feet making their way to me, here to save me. Finally, my brain decided to lock-down and I welcomed the darkness.

* * *

**A/N:** I apologize for the short chapter. I really do. But it seemed like a good place to stop. Besides, I'm exhausted. I've been moving houses and then injured my knee real bad. Had to be taken by ambulance and the whole nine yard. I'm pumped with meds and I feel giddy and light-headed.

ATTENTION: At the moment, Charlie's arc coincides with the season 1 finale of the show. I find myself conflicted. Charlie right now is a character of her own with her own back story and plot line. Should I carry on this way, her running parallel to the events of the show, having her own thing going on. But I warn you, it will turn pretty AU-ish. OR do i simply put her in the midst of the second and third season, battling Originals and finding moonstones. Feedback very needed. I'm at a depressed state. I can already see the symptoms. It's not good because I usually end up abandoning my projects. We wouldn't want that.

Suggestions for plots and characterizations are hereby open. C'mon peeps, anything rattling at the back of your brains, spit them out. You never know, they might trigger something.

ALSO: I've been watching **_Falling_ Skies** the past few days and it's currently my latest obsession. I plan on writing a fanfic for that as well. Probably a Hal/OC story. Yeah, I love my OCs. For those of you not familiar with it, go check it out. I think it's the best thing that has happened to TV for a very long time. Post-apocalyptic Sci-Fi. Doesn't get any better than that.

Conclusion: I love you all for reading my story and for reviewing. I'm freely expressing my appreciation to you folks. So repay me, write something in that little square box at the end of the page. You'll make my year.

**Also annihilating tomb vamps. Pesky things.**

**xoxoxoxoxoxo**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries belongs to L.J Smith and The CW. I only own what you don't recognize.**

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_**A dying man needs to die, as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong, as well as useless, to resist - Stewart Alsop**_

He never thought of his death. Or the death of the people he killed with his bare hands. He never thought of death because, Damon Salvatore has been dead since 1864.

He preferred to call it his ultimate demise. It has a better ring to it.

Damon might have not spent countless hours brooding and contemplating the complex philosophy of vampirism like his brother, but deep down, like seriously deep, in a metal plated, bolted shut box that contains feelings, human experiences and shit of that kind, he knew, that even he would be killed one day. That's just the way the world revolved. You live, you die, you become a vampire and then you die that final death.

Just because it's true doesn't mean he likes it.

But he took comfort in thinking that he'd go down swinging.

Boy, was that the world's biggest middle finger.

He got outsmarted by humans. Pathetic, weak and stupid humans. And that Bennett witch. And to think he actually thanked her, _twice _and told her he owed her one.

He knew something bad was going to come out of it. Never deviate from routine. Isn't that what those therapist on cable tell people. They were onto something.

Damon tried to raise his arm, it was another failed attempt. He could literally feel the poisonous vervain coursing through his system, pinning his body to the ground. Making him weak. Making him pathetic. Making him _human_.

Jonathan Gilbert: One.

Damon Salvatore: big fat nothing.

His body might have been paralyzed but his senses were still functioning. Damon could hear the footsteps of the humans, he could smell the gasoline that coated the ground. He let out a small bitter laugh. He was going to burn to death. Awesome.

Following the footsteps on his right, Damon realized he regained enough motor ability to crane his neck. He could see Pearl's daughter, Anne...Anna...baby Gilbert's weird girlfriend, lying on the floor. She grabbed hold of Jon Gilbert's leg, stopping him in his tracks.

"You guys go ahead," Jon told the rest of his posse. "I'll handle this."

Damon watched, helpless as Jon crouched beside the girl and drove a stake right into her chest. As she withered to gray and the nerves outlined her face and neck, Damon watched and allowed himself to feel bad for her. Or was it Jeremy who he felt for? His second girlfriend getting killed. No fifteen year old should go through that.

Damon knew as soon as he heard the crackling of the fire that he was seriously in trouble. All he could do was wait. Maybe see his life flash before his eyes. Reflect on the choices he had made and the countless lives he took for his entertainment. Oh who was he kidding!

Damon didn't do any of that. Instead, he pictured eight different ways to torture Katherine. The only reason he was in this predicament was because of that bitch.

And Stefan. He should have let him die that time. He shouldn't have tempted him into vampirism.

The fire was quickly spreading, smoke rising and getting thicker. Most of the other members of his species were regaining consciousness, fussing and fretting. He wished he could tell them to shut up and let him have this final piece before he died.

Then he heard a heart beat. Human. There was a human among them.

Damon managed to flip himself around onto his stomach and came face to face with the Mayor, clutching his head.

"Mayor Lockwood," Damon rasped, wondering if this was a hallucination.

The man turned to him, face etched with pain and confusion. "Damon?" he asked in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

And classic Damon Salvatore, he thought a little fun before dying wouldn't kill anyone.

Pun intended of course.

"I'm a vampire," he replied, watching the man's features change from confused to terrified. "But what are_ you _doing here?"

The Mayor's eyes widened and he started crawling away from Damon, desperate to put some distance between them. So much so that he ended up on the lap of a very pissed off, almost dead tomb vampire.

"Hello Mayor," the vampire said with a smile before snapping the guy's neck. He dropped to the floor with an audible _thud. _Poor Carol Lockwood.

Damon didn't even realize that he was smiling until his hearing picked up the rhythmic lull of another heartbeat and the smile abruptly dropped from his face. His eyes darted around the burning room, searching for someone. He spotted a figure on the farthest corner, between two old shelves.

If his heart was still beating, he was sure it would skip two beats and probably get a heart attack from shook. Even on the fringes of death, Damon would be able to recognize that soft brown skin and those curls.

_Charlie!_

What the fuck was she doing here? Why? Why her? Why now when he was weak and couldn't even save himself, let alone her. She was human. A Morrison. If the tomb vampires didn't kill her, the smoke would suffocate her long before the fire.

Damon could feel the despair weighing him down, like a big boulder sitting on his chest, suffocating him. He didn't dare to call out to her. He didn't want those bastard to know she was among them.

Shakily, he tried to sit up but his arms and knees gave away. Again. And again. And again.

"Dammit," he growled, pounded his fist on the ground harder and harder, until his brain registered the pain.

With every bit of power he could muster, he pushed himself up from the ground, firmly placed both palms and knees on the floor. Droplets of sweat dripped from the tip of his nose, his forehead, even his hair and landed in front of him.

_Getting up shouldn't be this hard! Saving Charlie shouldn't be this hard!_

Like a baby exploring the mechanism of his own body, Damon pushed one knee forward and slid his open palm across the hot floor. He toppled over and slammed his face painfully.

Damon lay there, eyes focused on the unmoving girl, as the reality of the situation hit him forcefully in the head.

Damon Salvatore was going to die here tonight. And he wants to save Charlie Sanders more than he would want to get out alive.

_Oh. Fuck._

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__**A/N: Apologies are in order. Seriously, I know each chapter is getting shorter than the other. But this just seemed like the place to end it. If I carried on I don't think it would have turned out this way. I'll update soon. I promise.**

**Also: thanks for the rave reviews. You guys are the reason I want to write. And yes, don't worry, I'm not abandoning this babe. I don't plan to. I just have to figure out a good, _original_ way to get her in the Sacrifice arc and the whole Original drama as well. And since she has nothing on her side, no super powers, no witchy mojos or even hunting experience, I don't want her to become boring or worse, dead. Logically speaking of course, humans don't really survive alot in the supernatural world. I mean, even Jeremy ends up being a medium of ghosts. Seriously. And West has done her one better and is in vamp-hunter boot camp, location unknown.**

**IDEAS peeps? Please? My brain's in a standstill. I've only thought as far as the season one finale. Nothing after that. Toss out what you wanna see happen? You never know, I might consider it.**

**As always love you. I'll even love you way more if you review. I'm a bitch. I know.**

**xoxoxoxo**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries. Only my OCs.**

* * *

_**I know you have a little life in you yet. I know you've a lot of strength left- Greg Laswell, This woman's work**_

She remembers the first time she has ever lied to her friends. It was in sixth grade. They were throwing their annual slumber party at Elena's place. For an entire week the girls fussed and fretted with designs and themes. The girls like their themes.

When they finished drooling over Heath Ledger in _Ten Things I hate About You_, Bonnie reluctantly agreed to play one round of Truth or Dare. Like most preteens, the questions always leaned heavily in the boys directions. Bonnie thought to this day that the only reason Caroline chose truth was so she could brag about kissing Aaron Levine, the cutest boy in class.

And when it was Bonnie's turn to choose, she hesitated. Caroline latched onto that reaction and had said, "C'mon, Bonnie. I think I just grew some gray hair. Just pick one. Or let me make this easier for you, pick dare." She glanced at Elena who was trying to stay away from the fray. "I mean, what's the use of asking you anything when we know everything about you."

"You don't know everything," Bonnie retorted, defensively.

"I know enough to know that there isn't anything interesting worth asking. You're what, twelve and you still didn't have your first kiss!"

So she lied. To save face. To stand up to the bossy Caroline. She spun this elaborate and intricate lie that had something to do with summer camp while visiting her relatives and this skater boy and running into the woods after curfew. Elena giggled along, thrilled and awed by her friend's story. Caroline simply sulked, eyeing her disbelievingly.

It felt great at first, this little secret she had. It made her feel big, mysterious. But every time Elena mentioned the boy's name, Bonnie inwardly winced and felt bad. She had lied only a handful of times after that. Nothing big. Just excusing herself with nonexistent plans on days she was especially tired and Caroline and Elena wanted to go shopping. Or saying fine when she wasn't. Or getting another call on the phone when her head ached.

_Until today,_ she thought bitterly.

She was standing in front of the old Gilbert building where the tomb vampires lay. Where Damon lay. Damon who had earlier caught her off-guard with his sincerity. That didn't mean she had forgiven him, not by a long shot.

Stefan came sprinting down the alley and tearing open the utility door.

"Hey you can't go in there!" she warned him. "The fire will take you out!"

Damon might have been an asshole, but Stefan didn't deserve to die. Bonnie really had no problem with the guy. In fact she was thankful that he helped take care of Elena all the times she couldn't. Letting him burn to death wasn't an option.

Stefan looked at her, a mixture of determination, worry and maybe a hint of betrayal. "He's my brother, Bonnie." And with that he proceeded to enter.

Maybe if she had really dispelled the device...

_Then it would have been a bloodbath at the square,_ she justified to herself. All those dying vampires in there would have killed innocent civilians. She couldn't allow that. Grams wouldn't.

A pretty tall woman rounded the corner, a cellphone on her hand. She was watching the building in horror. There was something familiar about her, something she couldn't put a finger on. When the woman's eyes landed on her, she marched towards her.

"Where is she?"

Bonnie blinked. "Wha-excuse me?"

"Charlie. Have you seen her?"

Bonnie's jaw dropped. Of course, Charlie's mother. The hunter witch. No wonder she felt that tingle, the sense of sisterhood.

Bonnie shook her head. "I- I haven't seen her."  
Mrs. Sanders ran hand through her hair, her face a mask of worry.

"She was supposed to look for Elena and the Salvatores and meet me by the square forty minutes ago."

Bonnie opened her mouth to offer some form of comforting platitude but was interrupted by Elena's voice calling out "Stefan!" as she ran towards the door. Elena was entering the building without thought, chasing after her boyfriend. Bonnie's hand shot up and grabbed Elena's elbow, locking her in place.

"Elena!" The girl tried to yank her arm back both Bonnie held on. "You can't go in there."

"Bonnie, what are you doing?"

Bonnie recalled the heavy weight of guilt she lugged around the entire week after the slumber party. She was sure that if Stefan and Damon died in there, Elena would never forgive her. And it was that thought alone, the thought of losing Elena so close after losing Grams that scared her the most.

She was no Emily Bennett, but she knew she had to try with whatever 'parlor trick' she possessed to somehow save them. Bonnie glanced at Charlie's mom, who was watching them. When their eyes locked, Bonnie knew she didn't have to voice her mind. They understood each other clearly, the way only witches could. She turned back to her friend.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," she told her. Elena stopped struggling but Bonnie held on. She closed her eyes, pictured the a page from her family grimoire that she had read over and over again the past couple months. She began reciting the incantation, focusing the energy coursing through her veins to her brain.

She felt Elena tugging herself free. "Bonnie, I've gotta get in there," she pleaded, but Bonnie carried on. Soon she heard another voice speaking Latin. Mrs. Sanders joined her and she could feel their dual power channeling the forces of nature. It was euphoric.

It was also tiring.

It every passing second, her energy was dropping. Standing upright was hard and soon she found herself swaying. She was losing control. Losing magic. And then she abruptly came to a stop.

"Bonnie. Bonnie what is it?"

She stepped away from her friend, let go of her hand. She didn't have an answer. She didn't know if it worked.

"Are they going to be okay?" Elena demanded.

She glanced behind her and saw Stefan and Damon, both well and alive. They burst through the door and Elena ran to tend to them.

"Are you okay?" she repeated over and over...

"Charlie," Damon croaked between deep breaths. "Charlie...is...there!"

Her legs shook, badly. Then her hands. Then her whole body trembled uncontrollably. Spots danced in front of her eyes and her ears acted up, as if she was swimming in the ocean and the water blocked her hearing. Bonnie stood there, in the shadows and watched. She watched the color drain from Elena's face. She watched Damon try to re-enter the building. She watched Stefan using his inhuman speed to vainly try to bring the girl back. But nothing, nothing could compare to the desperate wail that escaped Mrs. Sanders's throat. It was raw, it was despair at its purest. It was anguish.

It only amplified Bonnie's own pain. The heavy feeling on her chest became worse. So much so that she wondered how the fuck she was alive.

Lips moved, words were shouted, tears were shed but nothing would kick-start her powers. Bonnie looked up at the sky, calling on Grams, begging silently to bestow upon her something. But her prayers weren't answered.

Stefan was inside the burning house, Damon was following him. Elena was saying something to Bonnie with a tear streaked face.

"What the hell are you doing! Stop it Bonnie, make it stop like before!"

How could she make her best friend understand that she was only human now. Completely powerless. Useless.

"She can't," Mrs. Sanders replied, her voice eerily calm. "She used up all of her energy."

"But it's Charlie!" Elena sobbed. "We have to save her. We have to do something!"

Bonnie watched feeling numb and hopeless as Mrs. Sanders raised her hands, closed her eyes and tilted her head back. It was a murmur at first. The leaves rustled a little. The murmurs turned to intelligible words, words in an old language. Words that sounded familiar to Bonnie but couldn't recall. Couldn't be bothered to recall.

Because she was in that place, that dark, cold and numb place. She didn't think she would revisit it so soon. But this town,_ her_ town, that she once loved has taken so much from her already that...

A strong breeze blasted into her face, tangling her hair and causing the leaves and plastic wrappers fly in the air. Bonnie could literally feel the power emanating from Mrs. Sanders. And through the roar of the wind, something clicked inside her brain. Maybe it was one word or the inflection of the tone, but she knew where she saw the spell.

The ground lurched to her face but she managed to not topple over.

"Oh my God!" Elena shrieked, seeing the flames disappear from the side of the house. "It's working! It's working! Bonnie it's working!"

Bonnie dragged herself with shaky legs and stood before the blond woman. Blood was flowing from her nose, the tendons around her neck pronounced. She chanted on and on, one louder than the other. She coughed, sputtering on something crimson.

A sob escaped Bonnie's mouth and she clamped a hand over her lips to stop.

"Look!"

She spun around as Stefan crashed out of the building, dropped to his knees, wheezing and carrying a limp body in his arms. Elena and Damon already crowded him, checking for pulse and injuries. They could take care of her. Bonnie turned to her friend's mother and reached out, holing her hands in both of hers. Mrs. Sanders crashed to the floor like a brick wall. Bonnie, in a last ditch effort, let go of her hands and grabbed her head just before it connected to the ground.

Sirens blared, the windows shattered from fire that went up again, screams of burning vampires echoed in the air. Bonnie could hear her friend's voice inquire about Charlie's state. Vampire blood. ambulance arrives. Fire fighters try to put out the fire. Blood pressure's dropped. Smoke inhalation. No physical burns. What a miracle.

Bottle green eyes find hers and when Mrs. Sanders tries to speak through her own blood, she gurgles and Bonnie knows she is physically incapable of spitting it out. So she bends her head and it takes a few attempted tries but she finally manages to understand.

One word.

_Charlie._

And so she tells her biggest lie ever. Bonnie smiles, holds the dying woman's hands and tells her, with tears of regret and shame in her eyes, that her daughter is fine and that she will live.

When the paramedics take her away, she's tempted to tell them that its useless. That that woman had sacrificed her live for her daughter's. That she will die.

"Are you coming, miss?"

She looks at Charlie's ambulance, sees Damon with his shoulders sagging sitting beside the girl. As if sensing her stare, he turns and nods at her. She doesn't dwell on it. He was there for Charlie. That's all that mattered.

"Yeah," Bonnie tells the paramedic. "I'm coming."

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**A/N: Bet ya didn't see that coming! And the first time I wrote in a canon character's P.O.V, apart from Damon that is. Also, another short chapter. Feel free to curse. I know I would.**

**Nonsensical ramble: I love Damon. That much is obvious. I mean, a Damon fanfic, you don't get more hardcore than that. And when I first started TVD, I was a big Delena fan. I found Stefan...don't kill me...gasp oh gasp...boring. There, I said it, sure me bitch. Yes, I found Stefan boring. Saint Stefan, the good guy, feeding on chipmunks and opening doors. Then you have Damon Salvatore, devilishly handsome, black wardrobe and just full of witty one-liners. You do the math.**

**Come season 3 and I found myself really confused. Somehow, I found myself rooting for Stelena to conquer and Delena not to. I know, I know. Believe me, I felt like I was cheating on Damon. But seriously people, lets think about it. Stefan sacrifices his life, his love, his everything for Damon and becomes the thing he hates the most. And what does Damon do, bust his moves on his brother's girl. I'm all for bad boys but there's this certain line you shouldn't cross. Also, I finally came to terms with how awesome Stelena really is, especially the episode- i dunno- but when Klaus, Rebekka and Stefan return to Mystic Falls, and Stefan is compelled to literally kill Elena when the time runs out. The scene were he struggles...beautiful. Its beautiful. A tear jerker. So yeah, season 3 sold me Stelena real hard.  
**

**But Damon is still ma man! WHAT UPP!**

**Also, thank you all for reading and reviewing. All of you are amazing. Really. Dedicated followers RULEZZZ!**

**And...keep those suggestions rolling in. Ninja Kat says vampire. I've been considering that for a while now. I'm really considering it. The when and the how and the why and the whom.**

**Oh, and I know Charlie hasn't been interacting with a lot of canon characters. And since West is outta the picture, she'll need a new best friend and partner. Let me know who you think she'd make the dynamic duo with!**

**xoxoxoxoxo**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I don't own TVD. Only my OC**

* * *

_Time never stands stills. It marches on regardless of joy or tragedy. Even when it feels as if your whole world has stopped spinning, that it cracked and somehow you are caught between the said cracks and its suffocating, so suffocating that you might as well be buried alive._

_Time ticks away._

_Life carries on._

_People live on._

_The only thing that truly stops are the corpses of the people who used to be. The dead who are buried six feet under. They are the ones who stop blinking, stop talking, stop living._

_Some smart-ass came up with the five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. It's a load of crap. Denial doesn't even factor in his stupid equation. Because when the police come to your hospital room with solemn expressions and you find your godmother red-nosed and her face tear-streaked, you know, instinctively, that something ugly had gone down._

_And that pain you feel, like a cold metal fist has been clenched around your heart and been ripped out from your chest, it's real and it's true and it's accepting the horrible truth. She's dead. You can't feel like dying if you are denying it. No. The first stage is full acceptance of the reality. Second is depression and there's no final stage. You just move on. _

_I'm new at this whole writing down your feelings as a therapy thing but Jenna's adamant. She said it helped Elena through her worst time. I really don't get how a pen and paper can make your life all rainbows and unicorns but I'll humor her and write and ...should I name you or should I just call you Dear Diary?_

_I'll try not to get myself killed today._

_Peace out._

I slammed the journal shut and threw it on the desk. Footsteps and hushed voice floated through the open space of my door. Jenna was making casserole for Mayor Lockwood's wake today and the Gilbert siblings have been walking on eggshells around me since I woke up in the hospital and found my mother had died.

Even I marvel at how calmly I handled it. I only cried twice, once in the morgue and last night in bed after her funeral. It was small, just The Gilberts, The Salvatore brothers, Bonnie, Matt, Alaric, Tyler and his mother and Sheriff. Uncle Jon couldn't make it. He was recovering from the injuries Katherine gave him. I think it's just delayed reaction and that sooner or later, I'll have a major breakdown and probably fling myself from the Wickery Bridge and into the river.

Glancing at the clock, I groaned inwardly and got to my feet. I opened my closet and dispassionately sifted through clothes. I finally settled on black denim and a grey shirt. I pulled my hair into a messy bun, slapped on some eyeliner and tried my hardest to cover the shadows beneath my eyes. I stood in front of the mirror and assessed my condition. I looked well. Put together. Functional.

I know people would be expecting a broken girl with tearful eyes but I wasn't that girl, and I refuse to be one for them. Grabbing my cellphone from the vanity, I walked out of my room and down the hallway. I made it to the stairs without interruptions with well-meant smiles and reassurances that simply made me want to rip my hair out.

But I ran out of luck when I tried to sprint for the front door.

"Charlie!" Jenna called from the kitchen. "Get in here this instant!"

Letting go of the handle, I dragged myself to the kitchen and plopped down on one of the bar stools. Jenna was dressed in a black dress, an apron around her waist and hair tied up. She was watching me intently.

"What?" I said defensively.

"You haven't had breakfast."

"I'm not hungry."

"You haven't had dinner last night either."

I shrugged one shoulder and looked away.

"Nor did you have lunch," she carried on, her voice stern. "Are you _trying_ to starve yourself to death?"

I faced her. "Look, I appreciate your concern, Jenna. But I'm fine and I'll eat at the -"

"Sit," she commanded me when I tried to slip away. "Sit down. Sit down or so help me God..." She let the threat hang in the air between us. We glared at each other for a while, both of us not moving. I could have kept it going but the only way I could get out of here fast enough is if I forfeited. So I sighed and sat back and crossed my arms. Jenna's eyes softened. "Sweetie, we need to talk."

I resisted the urge roll my eyes. "I'm not ready to have a heart to heart. Not now. When I feel like it, I'll ring you up."

"Look, can you stop being a smart ass for just a couple of minutes? A couple of minutes is all I'm asking for."

I clenched my jaw and gave her a curt nod. Jenna let out a shaky breath and pulled a chair to sit on. "You need to stop caring what other people might think of you, Charlie. And don't -" She held out her palm to stop me from arguing. "Don't tell me you don't because I know you do. You don't want to be seen as a weak girl who fell apart and is in grieving. You don't want to depend on people. You don't want to be seen as someone who needs people." She shook her head sadly, eyes moist. "But Charlie, you are. You are a girl who fell apart and is in grieving. You lost your mother. Your _mother_. And you've earned the right to become moody, to cry, to skip school and get bad grades and get into fist fights and mouth off at me. And you're not doing that. Which means you're not grieving. Which means you're not feeling."

I glared at the kitchen island hard, not wanting to cry but the pressure behind my eyes kept building and I could feel the familiar burn at the back of my throat. Jenna clasped my hand with her own and rubbed her thumb over my knuckles soothingly. "And if you're not feeling, Charlie, then you're not living. And you've to live. You owe it to your mother. You owe it to her and to your father and to everyone who's worrying about you. I know it's gets overwhelming but you should know, they mean well. They want to help but they don't know how."

I raised my head when I got the tears under control and saw her crying. "I loved your mother. I loved her so much and I love you and your father and I just wanna take the pain away but I don't know how. At least if you were showing me some sort of emotions, then I know I'm doing something right." Her lower lip quivered and she bit it. "I promised your parents I would take care of you but when I see you being...robotic...I feel as if I have failed them and I can't have that."

She was silent after that, wiping away the tears and waiting for me to open up. And I wanted to, God knows how much I wanted to but I couldn't. The sole thought running in my head was that my mother, Jessica Sanders, was dead. She was never coming back. I would never see her again. And the worst part, she died saving my ass.

Jenna was staring at me expectantly, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement when she bared her soul to me. Taking a deep breath, I gave her a smile. It was stiff and rather forced. It fell flat. So instead I squeezed her hand.

"You're right, Jenna. Everything you said so far is true. I worry about what people think about me. I try not to but I still care. And I know it doesn't look like it, but I'm grieving." I looked her in the eye. "I just think the magnitude of the situation hasn't caught up with me. Sort of like a delayed reaction. And one of these days, hopefully sooner than later, I'm gonna be walking down the street, watching the birds and it will feel like a freaking anvil has falling from the sky and on my head and break me real bad. I will probably consider suicide, I will probably turn to booze and drugs, I'll probably sleep with men older than me but it will happen." I smiled for real this time and she returned it, a small chuckle escaping her lips. "So when I'm at my lowest of lows, I'll be expecting you to be there, gluing me back together. Because, lets face it, it's your job. I'll be expecting you to kick me in the ass and pull me off the wrong tracks and show me the light. And ignore all my nasty remarks and dipshit attitude. I'm just a girl in mourning. I'm weak, I'm in pain and I know that my godmother is there, waiting silently in my corner."

I blinked the tears away furiously and patted her hand, once, twice, three times and then got to my feet.

"Wanna hug it out?" she asked jokingly. I walked into her open arms and gave her a quick hug. It seemed as if I was the one comforting her but I didn't mind. Because everything I told her was true. The only reason I wasn't worried about my grief, or lack thereof, is that, for the first time in my life, I knew there were other people out there who cared about me and should I feel the urge to fall apart, they would be there for me.

So I held on tightly, closed my eyes and took in a whiff of the lavender shampoo, a hint of spice and Jenna's natural fragrance. The smell of my new family, my home and my heart.

* * *

I accepted a lot of pitying glances and sympathetic pats on the back, though well-intentioned, only sent my spirits plummeting. I indulged Carol Lockwood in a little tear-fest. Then I felt guilty for feeling annoyed because the woman lost a husband and a friend on the same night. Even Sheriff Forbes was there, shoulders slumped, the lines on her forehead and the corners of her mouth drooping in exhaustion and worry. So many deaths and tragedies. One night. A single night.

It seemed almost impossible for time not to stop for a few seconds.

At least Caroline was healed. With Damon's blood. The same blood that had apparently saved my life but not my mother's. Tyler had offered me a nod of camaraderie, one that told me he knew exactly what I was going through, from his post at the porch where he greeted people and accepted their condolences. I had fled the house immediately, not in the mood to see Elena or Jeremy. Actually I wasn't in the mood to be reminded of anything supernatural.

Jeremy was stupid enough to try turn himself into a vampire. Katherine now had a full access to our house and I blamed Richard Lockwood and Uncle Jon for my mother's death. If they haven't gone with their stupid plan, none of this would have happened. Caroline would have been fine, my mom would have been alive and so would Tyler's father.

Damon was standing between a distraught Sheriff and grief-stricken Carol, trying to keep them from tearing at each other. I watched the scene, silently laughing at how easily he could manipulate them, make them believe him without compulsion. I wandered around aimlessly for a while, munching on whatever I thought was edible, nicking champagne whenever the waiters couldn't tell me not to. I enjoyed the bubbly light-headed way it made me feel. Like I was drowning in luke-warm water. I had another and another. After three glasses, I couldn't stand straight without the support of the wall so I stumbled into a room in the far corner that was mostly empty and sunk into a deep comfortable armchair.

My head was swimming, numerous thoughts trying to break free but I squeezed my eyes shut and blocked them out. I was not feeling contemplative and I was not feeling sentimental. I was tipsy, I like being tipsy and I was going to savor every minute of it until Jenna found me here and gave me an earful. I must have dozed off because when I blinked open my eyes, Bonnie had a hand on my shoulder and was smiling down at me.

I sat up straighter. "How long was I out?"

She shrugged. "I just got in and found you curled up her." She eyed me critically. "You doing good? I don't mean to intrude but I worry and I kinda know what you're going through because I went through the same thing with Grams and I didn't like it -"

"Bonnie, you're rambling," I interrupted her monologue. "And to answer your question with honesty, I feel like crap but it will only get worse before it gets better so...thank you."

Bonnie blinked a few times, surprised at my heartfelt gratitude. We both know exactly what I meant by it. She held my mother's hand, she reassured her, she stuck by her until her last breath. I've never met someone so compassionate as her. She was the only one who stayed with me at the hospital the entire night, while the rest of them ran around ,figuring out how to solve the latest kink in the town's supernatural dilemma.

Bonnie was easily overlooked in the presence of Elena and Caroline. She was always the third one. The quiet one. The one that nurtured her friends back with silent smiles and just being there. I wanted to punch myself for not noticing all these things about her sooner, when she needed a friend the most.

I scooted over and patted the space. Bonnie squeezed herself in and pulled her knees up and rested her head.

"Where's Elena?" she asked me.

I shrugged. "I left before her. She's probably on her way here."

We stayed silent for a while.

"How's Caroline?" I said, breaking the comfortable silence.

She smiled happily, the first one in months. "She's great. Watching Jersey Shore and complaining about hospital food and just being..._Caroline_."

"Who suggested the ...vampire blood?"

"Damon offered in his usual off-hand way. Probably only did it to impress Elena as always." My chest felt tight at her words but I moved past it. "Then I pressed the matter. Elena was against it." She fell quiet, eyes staring at her jeans but seeing nothing. Her head snapped up and she looked me in the eye. "Do you think I should have removed the spell from the device?"

Her voice was soft, full of regret. I was aware she was feeling responsible for everything so I shook my head and said, "It was either that or a bloodbath. According to Damon, tomb vampires were ready to strike the town. You averted mass murder. You deserve a frickin' medal or something."

She sniffed and scratched her nose. "Sure as hell doesn't feel like it."

"Well, give it sometime. And when Caroline checks out of the hospital, you can bet your ass she'll throw a party and we'll all commemorate your heroic work."

Bonnie let out a small, happy laugh and bumped her shoulder with mine. "Why are you the one comforting me? It should be the other way around."

"You're on speed-dial number three," I told her with a rueful smile. "Don't kill me when I wake you up two in the morning, crying my heart out."

"I'll be waiting."

We sat in silence.

Bonnie broke it this time. "Should we...I don't know, hug it out or something?"

I shook my head. "Not really."

"Good. Because I'm not ready to...you know...get too emotional."

"Me neither," I reassured her.

"Great. We're on the same page."

Same page. Same paragraph. Even the same friggin word.

* * *

I must have been holed up on the couch for almost an hour before I decided to leave my social foxhole and venture out. I scanned the crowd, not seeing any familiar faces. Bonnie had gone to the rest room and never made it back. No sign of Elena or Stefan or Damon. Even Tyler had abandoned his post, probably to knock himself out cold. I was still a little unsteady on my feet, brain too cloudy and almost sticky.

Water.

I'm in serious need of water. I panicked a little when I couldn't recall the last time I had a sip of water. Not good. Not good at all. If I should die of grief, I wanted it to be memorable. Dying from dehydration was not as cool as slitting your jugular.

"You look drunk," a deep voice rumbled behind me, making me jump a little. A ruggedly handsome man, probably in mid to late twenties, with dark unruly hair, was eyeing me studiously. I gave him the same treatment, raising my eyebrows at his all white, outdoorsy beach attire.

"So?" I retorted. He crossed his arms over a well-toned chest and cocked his to the side.

"You shouldn't look drunk. You shouldn't be drinking, period."

My temples were throbbing dully, escalating the irritation I had for this stranger. "Again, so?"

"Nice comeback. Very original."

"Look, no offense, dude, but is there a point to your existence in my life? Because I don't know you, and you don't look like a frickin' cop so turn a blind eye and carry on with your life."

He chuckled and stuck out his hand. I stared at it as if it was an alien tentacle. "Mason Lockwood."

I looked from his hand to his face, searching for any identifying Lockwood feature. I wasn't even sure they had any identifying feature. But I was tipsy and my brain function has stalled. So instead, I took his hand which was big and warm and calloused and shook it.

"How are you related to Tyler?"

"I'm his uncle." He shoved his hands back in his pocket after I let go. "Richard was my brother."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Yeah. Thanks." A beat. "So you're drunk."

"Tipsy," I corrected him. "And I was just going to get water and sober up." I started moving towards the table with shaky legs. He was following me. "So they serve minors now."

Lines of bottled water lay on the table. I took one, unscrewed the cap and took a long sip, relishing at the cold, refreshing liquid as it made its way down.

"Not really," I told him. "I stole it when no one was looking."

"I know I'm just some old guy you met at a wake who just so happens to be the uncle of Tyler who might or might _not_ be your friend but," He gave me a leveled look. "Drinking is not good for you. Its not good for anyone, period. You do some pretty stupid shit that you can't remember in the morning, some of them you pretty much better off not knowing but when you_ do_ recall make you cringe and swear off booze for the rest of your life."

I let him lecture me. I guess I just needed to think about anything, anything trivial and unimportant so that the actual problems I should be experience took a backseat. So I let him talk.

"Sounds like you're talking from experience," I told him. You could tell he was surprised with the way his eyes widened a fraction and his eyebrow quirked up. He smiled at me. "Yeah, you could say that. I was the black sheep of the family. Drinking, gambling, partying, you name it."

Kinda like Tyler, I wanted to say but I swallowed them back the last second.

"I don't drink for fun," I admitted. "And I certainly don't drink to fit in. In fact, I don't drink at all. My mom died two nights ago so..."

Mason's eyes softened, sympathy rolling off of him in waves. And through all the layers of skin that I've built around me, I realized that this tall, dark and handsome stranger was actually a decent guy. It also helped that he was easy on the eyes.

He opened his mouth to say something but a young lady cut between us, babbling about how it's been a long time and what not. Tuning them out and noticing a perfect exit I ducked into the crowd and out the front door. Suddenly, I felt claustrophobic. Edgy. I needed to get the hell out and breathe in some fresh air. I passed Jenna on the way out. She was busy talking to some man. I gave her a nod and she smiled.

I strolled down the Lockwood estate, the breeze clearing my mind a little. When I reached the edge, I stood gazing at West's house, feeling like crap. I missed him. Two days and I missed him like hell. I missed his easy smile, his puppy eyes. The way he knew exactly the right words to say at the right moment.

I took the side gate out of the Lockwood's enormous house and walked down the street, wrapping my arms around me tightly. My chest hurt real bad. It was tight and unyielding. Even breathing hurt.

_Don't break down now. Not now. Not here._

But I was aware of my own symptoms. The accelerated heart rate, the burning behind my eyes and feeling suffocated. I gripped my throat tightly, trying to keep the whimper at bay. I rounded the corner, booted feet hitting the concrete hard. I needed somewhere quiet, somewhere empty. Some place where the earth holds still.

That's when I spotted Elena coming the opposite direction. I stopped in my tracks, trying to get myself under control. She smiled at me and a lamely raised a hand. As she got closer, my heart rate went back to normal and the tears stopped.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked.

"You know, that'd be the hundredth person today to ask me that."

A smile. "Well, forgive me for being a worrying friend. But really, you seem," She titled her to the left, curls cascading down one shoulder. "You seem to be hanging in there."

I shrugged. "I guess so." Then "What are you doing here, Elena?"

The smile dimmed a bit. "I was just strollin' around, you know. It's crazy, all the shit that went down."

I nodded, not satisfied with her answer. Strolling this far off the Lockwood property, highly unlikely. I took in a shuddering breath and any residual emotions evaporated. It was as if my body wasn't willing me to cry in front of others. I was thankful for that.

The way Elena was staring at me was unnerving. "What?"

She crossed her leather clad arms and shook her head, a small smile playing on her features. "Ah, and they say you're the sharpest one among all of them."

I crinkled my brow. "What? What are you talking about?"

Suddenly I was knocked back against the low wall of a house. Elena was standing over me, en eyebrow cocked. It was the way she carried herself, the sultry and confident way about her that connected the dots together in my addled-mind.

"Katherine," I breathed out.

She gave me a full blown smile. "Give the girl a price!" She shoved me back against the wall when I tried to make a move. I stopped struggling. "I gotta say, you're a lot quicker than Damon, even when drunk. It took the guy hours before he realized that it wasn't his beloved Elena that he kissed."

Thoughts swirled in my head. The revelation that Damon kissed Katherine, thinking it was Elena. The eerie way Katherine was a fucking clone of Elena. The fact that the psycho bitch had me cornered, and that if she wanted to, could kill me.

"Relax Charlie, if I wanted you dead, you would be breathing right now."

"How do you know my name?" Because that was creepier than creepy.

"I have my sources," she answered vaguely. She leaned in closer. "Also, you're quite the famous mortal among the vampires. They couldn't shut up about the Morrison bitch. I knew the original Charlotte Morrison, by the way. She was just as popular. Beautiful, tall and with dimpled cheeks. Had suitors lining up for her every other Tuesday."

I glared at her, wondering what the hell this had to do with me. Or anything at all. I was busy trying to figure her out, but she carried on her one-sided conversation. "You know, some of them even traveled through the country for her. Of course, all that changed when I arrived."

My voice was dripping sarcasm, "Oh, of course it did."

Her grin matched my sarcasm. "You might be pretty like her, but you're a lot bitchier. I like that."  
I decided to take a chance. I mean, what do I have to lose, except maybe my life. "Why are you here Katherine?"

"Revealing my plans to you so early in the game would ruin all the fun."  
"How do you look so much like her?"

She cocked her head to the side, gripped my chin and looked deep into my eyes. "You're asking all the wrong question, Charlie."

I slapped her hand away. "Compulsion won't work on me. And how about some personal space or is that a wholly foreign concept to you?"

She grinned, the same grin Elena had. It made shivers run up and down my spine. She had the face of my friend but she wasn't her.

"I can see why he'd enjoy your company," she muttered, more to herself than me. "You're feisty." Her eyes hardened with a menacing gleam. "But you better learn to keep your temper in check around me. I don't look kindly on bitchy humans. I can snap that pretty little neck of yours." Her hand shot up and squeezed my throat, effectively cutting off my oxygen supply. I scratched at her hand with stubby nails but she only tightened it. My chest began to burn, my head pounding and dark spots danced around the corners of my visions.

_This is it. I'm going to die today. Killed by Katherine._

"But that wouldn't serve my purpose," she whispered into my ear and let go off me. I wheezed, long and painful. I dropped to the cold ground, body trembling with fear.

"So I guess, we'll see each other soon, Charlie."

I watched her strut away, curls bouncing with every step. Closing my eyes, I cradled my head and sat there, bitterly wondering why she didn't just put me out of my misery.

* * *

It was dark and raining when Stefan found me in the same position Katherine had left me in. Without a word, he sat next to me on the wet ground, leaning his back against the wall. I was staring into the air, not seeing anything.

"Elena told Jenna you were at West's place," Stefan informed me. I nodded and turned my head away. "And I'm here to escort you home."

"I'll go when I'm ready," I told him, my voice cracking from being silent for hours on end.

"Don't mind me then."

I glanced at him and he gave me a soft smile. "I know you don't want me to but...I'll feel a lot better. Especially with Katherine out on the loose."

I snorted. "I had the honor of meeting her, just so you know."

They way his shoulder's bunched up and eyes widened was comical.

"Did she hurt you?"

I shook my head. "No, not at all. Just bragged about Damon kissing her." I gave him a side-long glance. "Must be very frustrating, knowing that Damon had those intentions all along."

Stefan was silent, glancing up at the sky and opening his palm to catch raindrops. I copied him, focusing on each individual droplet as they gathered in my cupped hand.

"But it wasn't Elena," he replied softly.

"And that doesn't make it any less frustrating," I pressed on, wanting him to spill the beans. Focusing on treating other people's trouble somehow became my coping mechanism.

Stefan shrugged his shoulders and faced me, resting his cheek on his upper arm. "Katherine knows how to push his buttons. She will destroy all that's good about him with a few well-chosen words."

I raised my cupped hand and watched the rain water trail down my arm. "But it_ still_ doesn't make it any less frustrating, right?"

He gave a short bark of laughter, more like a half-chuckle. "No, it doesn't make it less frustrating." He tapped me on the shoulder and looked at him questioningly. "Nice try at deflection, by the way. I've to give you pointers for that. But I have a lifetime of experience with the man who wrote the book on deflection. This is supposed to be about you, not me or Elena or Damon or Katherine. We should be comforting you."

"I think you did your part," I spoke softly, fearing my voice might break. "You know, when you ran into the burning building to save me."

"And I would do it over and over again." He squeezed my shoulder. "Your my friend and not trying simply wasn't an option."

I tried to swallow the fist-sized lump that seemed permenantly lodged in my throat. "Well, thank you. You're entitled to a lifetime of servitude from me."

He smiled, revealing all of his shocking white teeth but then his spine stiffened slightly. He glanced around before settling back on me.

"Everything good?"

He nodded in reassurance. "How about I take you home?"

Home. To Jenna. To Elena and Jeremy. My permanent home from here on out. Not Long Island. Not with mom and dad. But the Gilberts. I ducked my head, covering my eyes. "Uh, you could go. I promise not to run away."

Stefan hesitated, forehead rumpled in worry. "Are you sure?"

I forced a smile. "Yes. Give me an hour to get my wits about me and I'll be there."

"Don't stay out too long in the rain. You might catch a cold."

I mock saluted him and kept the smile on as he got up and walked away. I dropped as soon as he was out sight and let out a sigh.

My butt was wet and numb and my clothes drenched with rain water. Getting a cold will only make me hate myself more. Just as I made a move to get up, Damon rounded the corner, swaggering down with his usual cockiness, a bottle of Bourbon in one hand.

"Ah, there she is. You know, I think the whole purpose of running away from home is to actually skip town and not to sit in the rain a few blocks away from your house."

I slumped back, resigning myself to some Damon time. He peered down at me and whistled. "Wow, you look like crap." He took the spot Stefan had just vacated and offered me the bottle. I pushed it away. "More for me then," and with that took a long swig of it.

When I didn't speak out, Damon nudged me with his shoulder. "All this broody silence doesn't work for you. Doesn't work for anyone other than my brother. Now Saint Stefan, he knows how to rock that look."

I gave him the flat eyes. "Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself speak?"

He shot one hand in the air in mock surprise. "And it speaks!? Finally, that was the most normal thing you've said to me all day."

"It was the _only _thing I've said to you all day."

"Would asking you what the hell you're doing here ruin our.." He winked. "You know, moment."

"We did not have a moment, Damon."

He took another swig. "Really. Because when you gave me that sarcastic quip, it made me feel warm and fuzzy in my tender places."

I stared at him, incredulously. "Seriously dude!"

He copied my outrage. "Seriously dudette!"

"I don't wanna hear anything about your tender places."

"Mind outta the gutter, Shortie. I wasn't speaking of my little man."

Fighting off the smile forming on my lips, I brought my hand to my face and wiped away the water, probably even smearing more of the eyeliner. My heart did a little flip at the mention of Shortie. Stupid, stupid heart!

"Why are you here, Damon?" I asked wearily. "Not to comfort me because to do that you've to actually look and care about the world outside your own." The light-heartedness fled his face. "So what is it? Are you bored now that there's no mystery to solve? Oh and what are you planning to do with Katherine?"

Damon's nostrils flared. "Stay out of it."  
I flared my own nostrils. "I can't. Not when she made it a point to introduce herself to me. Oh yeah, she really did. Also told me how you kissed her, thinking it was Elena. What the fuck, Damon. Seriously, what's wrong with you? Elena is Stefan's girlfriend. Your brother."

Damon closed his eyes, rage rolling off of him in waves. He gulped down the rest of the Bourbon then flung the bottle against the opposite, shattering it to million unfixable pieces. The sound mirrored my heart and I began to panic. Why now? Why here?

"So you're defending Stefan as well, huh?" he said, voice laced with unveiled bitterness and anger.

"What? I'm not defending anyone. I'm telling you what you did was wrong in five -"

"I'm always wrong," he carried on, voice rising. "I'm always acting without thinking. I'm always the second to Saint Stefan!"

He was on his feet, raving like a mad man. I've never seen him like this, distraught and on the verge of nervous breakdown. I followed him with my eyes which were burning, and the simple act of breathing was getting difficult.

"It's Katherine, isn't it. She's doing this to you!"

He spun in his heels and shook his head. "You all are tryin' to change me. Tryin' to make and mold me into this perfect side-kick to Stefan but I'm not Stefan!" he roared. "I'll never be like Stefan! I'm my own person."

I stood up and pressed the back of my hand against my mouth, trying to muffle the sobs that threatened to spill out. I took a breath, too short, too quick and it wasn't helping when Damon was pacing like a wild caged animal.

_He's hurting. He's drunk._

He stopped to look at me and I turned my back to him, refusing to let him of all people to witness me fall apart.

"Why do you people just assume I'll change when you ask me to?"

I pressed my hands against the grey and cold wall and bent my head, watching the tears cascade down my face and mingle with the rain, unable to stop no matter how much self-control I exercised.

"I'm sorry," I croaked, not sure why or whom I was apologizing to. Damon. Or my mother. It all blurred together but I couldn't stop babbling. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Damon spun me around, grabbing my shoulders and stared into my eyes. I was bawling freely, letting it all go.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. I really didn't mean it! Oh God -"

"Hush." He cupped my neck and pulled me into his chest. "Hush. It's okay. It's okay. I'm here."

I fisted the front of his shirt, clinging the material as if it was my lifeline. Damon swayed us, rubbing my back and whispering sweet nothings. He smelled of wood, aftershave and booze. He smelt of despair. Of pain.

"I'm here," he promised me.

Closing my eyes, I worked on my breathing and wondered why it was that I found comfort in the arms of a vampire.

In Damon Salvatore.

* * *

**A/N: PHEW! What a long and angst-y chapter. My B'day present to you guys.**

**Made sure to portray Charlie in mourning. I don't usually write emotionally deep moments but I really like to hear your thoughts on the chapter. Was it sappy? Over dramatic? Stiff? Let me know.  
**

**Also Damon being OCC. Perfectly good reason. The scene with him and Charlie happens right after Katherine drops the bombshell about her always loving Stefan. So this takes place between Katherine walking out on him and him dropping in unannounced in Elena's room where he breaks Jeremy's neck.**

**Did anyone notice how everyone stopped writing in their journals mid-way through season 1 even though it's called Vampire Diaries. I think Charlie should keep a journal, cataloging her emotions. That way we'll be able to see the real and emotional side of her, because, let's face it, she doesn't like showing vulnerability at all!**

**Big hearts go out to everyone who read and reviewed and follows this story. You're the reason I write.**

**So type away at the small box at the bottom of the page. You know you want to.**

**xoxoxoxoxoxo**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: Me no own TVD. Me own OCs.**

* * *

_**Anyone can make you happy by doing something special. Only a special person can make you happy by doing nothing.**_

"Whoa! What the hell Charlie! You can't just barge into my room like a - "

I slammed the door closed and leaned against it. "I need a favor."

He stopped mid-rant and frowned. "Why? What's up?"

I glanced around his room, avoiding eye-contact. "There's some place I gotta be and I need you to cover for me."

He sat down on his bed and rested his elbows on his knees. "Where?"

I let out a sigh. "Just some place, okay."

Jeremy shook his head. "You gotta give me more than, Charlie. I mean, are you off to do something stupid or what? I mean, what if you get into -"

"First off, I'm not the stupid one here," I snapped at him, vaguely aware that this was not helping my case but I couldn't help it. I've been itching to slap his cute little face. "Just what the hell were you thinking, going to Damon after he snapped your neck."

Jeremy's eyes widened. "He told you?"

"No, I'm psychic. Of course he told me. You got a death wish or something. _Here's the guy that actually killed me, why don't I sneak into his house, lace his liquor with vervaine and wait for him to kill me a second time_." I gave him the flat eyes. "Is that how your thought process works, Jeremy. In case you haven't noticed, Damon is not the nicest person to have walked on earth. And now that he's ...unstable, well, putting as much distance between you and him is the smartest thing to do."

Jeremy hung his head. Feeling bad for losing my temper, I walked to his bed and sat down beside him. I glanced at his hand, at the big ugly ring that sat on his finger, the one that saved his life. Saved me from hunting down Damon and killing him myself if Jeremy never came back to life. Just thinking about it made my skin crawl.

"Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours," Jeremy finally said.

"Negotiation." I grinned. "My expertise. Lay it on me, Gilbert."

He matched my grin. "First off, no mentioning what I did to Elena. I really can't stand her and her high horse right now."  
I nodded. "Deal."  
"Second, I wanna be kept in the loop." He grew serious. "I don't want to be the little brother who's always kept in the dark. I won't be back to that naive little boy. I have as much right to know about things as you have."

"Of course you do Jer."  
"And I want to make sure you never let Elena compel me to forget. No matter how bad it gets."

I stared at the boy in front of me. The brother I never had and I knew he trusted me with his life, more so than his actual sister at this moment. But he was only sixteen and damaged. Parents dead. Two vampire girlfriends, dead. Sister turns out to be a cousin and adopted. And icing on the cake, he literally died two nights ago. My cold, cod heart went out to him.

"I promise, Jeremy." I held his gaze. "I promise."

He seemed genuinely surprised, searching my face for something. Apparently he was satisfied and gave me a full-blown smile.

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Just cover for me. If anyone asks, I'm at Bonnie's and that's all you know."

"No way in hell you're goin' to tell me where you're going."

"The less you know, the least amount of trouble you'll get in if things turn ugly." I patted his hand. "But don't worry. Nothing supernatural."

He fell back on the bed and draped an arm over his forehead, letting out a weary breath. "Thank God. May we not get an unhealthy dose of supernatural for the coming days."

"Amen to that," I muttered. "Amen."

* * *

"Are you sure you're not gonna get into trouble for your stupid stunt?" West voiced his concern over the phone. I rolled my eyes so hard, I thought I might shake something loose. It was so typical, so West-like that I actually thought he was walking beside me, berating me on my stupidity.

"Only if I get caught," I informed him and crossed the street to the Grille. "And even then, I've earned the right to be the rebellious teenager."

"So who's gonna take you there?"

I entered the Grille and quickly did a full one-eighty perimeter sweep. No one I knew there. Except Matt who was busy working and Tyler who was playing by the pool. I sighed and shook my head. Of course they weren't here. Stefan was busy taking care of a newly turned Caroline. Damon, Alaric and Elena were on a road-trip to Duke. Normally I would have given my left arm for a opportunity like that but things between Damon and I were...in a weird state of limbo. We didn't talk about what happened that night. He pretended our little moment didn't happen. Fine by me. But what I couldn't let slide was him messing with Jeremy. I let him know it wasn't tolerated. One thing let to another and I pretty much think he doesn't want to talk to me. Like ever.

"You would have if you were here, but since you're in location unknown- and notice how I'm not pressuring you to tell me where it is- I'll have to resort to either blackmailing or flirting with someone."

West laughed. "So who's the lucky guy?"

It took me about half a second to decide. "Tyler Lockwood."

"What-Lockwood? Seriously."

"Give the guy I break." I headed for the pool tables. "He's not so bad. And he could use a little bit of adventure. Poor boy lost his dad."

"That would have been super tragic if his father wasn't a bigger dick than he was."

"Dude!" I yelled in mock-outrage. Tyler and his friend turned their heads in my direction. "Respect the dead, you biatch!"

West sputtered. "What, I didn't mean-wait, did you call me a bitch?"

"You know I love you." I wiggled my fingers at the boys. Tyler leaned on his cue stick and regarded me with raised eyebrows. "And we'll talk later, vato."  
"Don't do anything -" I hung up on him before he finished his sentence and gave Tyler my sweetest smile.

"If I didn't know you better,"Tyler began. "I would think you're ecstatic to see me."

"Tyler, Tyler, Tyler. Didn't we already establish how we put all the bad days behind us." I playfully hit him on the arm. "We're practically best friends." When he stared on blankly. "Fine. You got me. But panic not, I'm not here to taser you."

He gestured at my bag. "What's with the overnight bag? You going somewhere?"

I patted it. "Yep. And I need a favor."

Tyler snickered, looked to his friend, who's very good-looking, in a cool and withdrawn kinda way. The boy glanced at me, ignoring my little polite wave and then at Tyler and then back to the pool table.

And they say my people skills suck.

"And what might the favor be, Sanders?"

I tried to brush off the sting of rejection and focused on Tyler. "I need to borrow your car."

He blinked, twice. Then, slowly asked, "Why?"

"I'm plannin' on skipping town for a few nights."

"And you need my car."

I nodded and placed the heavy bag on the pool table, much to Mr. Cool and Withdrawn's chagrin. Well, I was Ms. I Don't Give A Shit.

I messaged my shoulder. "Maybe because I don't have one."

"What about Elena and her posse?"

Sighing, I dug deep for my patience. "I don't plan on tellin' them. They think I'm staying over at Bonnie's. Asking to borrow their cars will be too suspicious. Which brings me to you." He pointed at himself, amused. "You can either drive me to New York and explain to your mother and Mason where the hell you're or you could just hand over the keys."

Tyler let out a hoot of laughter and clapped his hands. I admired my nails while I waited for him to recover. He jerked his thumb in my direction. "Can you believe her?" Mr. Cool and Withdrawn flicked his eyes to me and held them. His gaze was intense yet cold, as if he was assessing me. Heat was spreading like wild-fire at the back of my neck. A tell-tale sign that soon, my temper would get the best of me.

But what the hell was his problem. Seriously. I know I'm not everyone's cup of tea, but basic human decency is not too fucking hard to master. And deep down I was aware that I'm still smarting from his dismissive attitude. Like I wasn't worthy of his attention. Even the king of all jerks, Damon, indulges me. So why not Mr. Cool and Withdrawn?

I glared at him, putting a lot of heat behind it. He turned away and I mentally patted myself on the back. Girl power.

Tyler was still speaking, unaware of the stare-down. "I mean, you're basically ordering me around while you ask me for a favor."

I kneaded my temples, feeling a bad headache brewing. "Look, we both know that I'm a bitch and playin' nice isn't my strongest forte. But I need to get back home for some unfinished business. The only other person I know in Mystic Falls who isn't part of Elena's posse as you so eloquently put it, is you Tyler." I waited for a beat. "So are you gonna give me your car or not?"

Tyler cupped back the of his neck, deep in thought. "How about you ask me nicely, Charlie?"

I frowned. "This is me asking nicely."

Mr. Cool and Withdrawn snorted, an amused look on his face. Tyler shot his friend a dirty look. "I wish I could, Sanders. But it's at the shop." Upon my indignant face, he had the grace to look ashamed. "I'm sorry. But I had to make sure you know..pulling me leg."

My booted foot shot up and connected to his shin. Tyler yelped and cursed at me. I picked up my bag and walked away. He gripped my elbow and pulled me to him. His face and neck were flushed a deep red, the barely suppressed rage filling his eyes with venom.

I recalled Stefan retelling how the Lockwood's possessed inhuman strength and agility. That they too could be supernatural. I was wholly against Damon's investigation into their family secret. Now, as I stared into his eyes, I wasn't so sure.

His fingers were digging painfully into my flesh, I was certain he would leave angry bruises.

In a leveled voice I said, "Let go of me, Tyler."

He worked his jaw, the free hand in a fist. I kept one eye out for it, you know, in case he felt the need to punch my face in.

"Get off her!" An arm was snaked around Tyler's throat from behind, while another across his chest. "You don't wanna do this."  
It was Mr. Cool and Withdrawn. I tested the pressure of his grip and when he loosened it, I yanked myself free. Mr. Cool and Withdrawn let go off Tyler who brought his fisted hand to the wall so hard, I gasped. With a parting glare, he stormed off to the men's room.

Cool fingers were holding my arm, assessing the damage. Standing still, I stared, baffled as Mr. Cool and Withdrawn ran long fingers over the red skin. He wasn't looking at me, but staring at my arm with an intent expression.

"That will definitely bruise," he finally spoke, his voice low, deep and rich. When he raised his head, he was smiling. I gasped for the second time under a minutes. His smile was the most transformative smile I've ever seen. It enlivened his entire face. While seconds ago, he seemed surly, dark and closed up, now he was the opposite. He was warm. He was open. He was kind. His grin was large, his teeth pearl white and straight. His eyes were deep-set and brown, and framed by insanely long lashes. He was also tanned, his longish black hair falling into his eyes. I had to clench my hands to stop the insane urge to brush the hair aside.

"Oh yeah," I mumbled, trying to tear my eyes away from him but failing miserably. "I've had worse."

"You piss off a lot of jocks?" he asked, taking his hand away.

I laughed, a little out of breath. "I piss off a lot of people, generally."

He nodded. "So I've heard." He held out his hand. "I'm Mick Holloway."

His hand enveloped mine completely. I think he noticed if the amused expression is any indication. "Charlie Sanders."

"I know. You're quite famous in town." Something cold was pressing against our palms. I looked down at our hands. Mr. Cool- no, Mick was still grinning. Frowning, I retract my hand and in it sat a pair of keys. Shocked, I stared at him.

"Um...what is this?"

"I think they are pretty much self-explanatory," he replied, cheekily.

I tried to wrap it around my mind. "Wait, you're giving me your_ car_?"

He cocked his head to the side. "More like, letting you borrow it."

"But you don't know me."

"Somehow I don't think you'd carjack me. Besides, I know where you live and also know you're heading to New York. I can always rat you out."

I couldn't help the smile that burst through my face. "You wouldn't!"

"Cross me and try." He picked up his cue stick from the table and gave me a look. I don't know what look it was but all I know is that it made me feeling good. Smoldering. Yep, that's the word.

"I might be gone for a while," I told him, giving a last chance to wrestle his keys from me.

Mick shrugged. "Drive safely, Charlie."

I blinked several times, still unable to process what happened. A random hot guy at the Grille just gave me his keys and isn't the least bit worried. I started to back away. "I'm leavin'."

He simply waved and carried on with his pool.

"I'm seriously leavin, Mick. You might never see me again."

When he didn't even glance my way, I turned around and walked away, trying to stop grinning like an idiot. From the door, I watched Matt approach him with a drink and they slapped palms and started talking. As if sensing my gaze, Mick's eyes found mine. I raised a hand and he bowed his head.

Stepping into the sun out of the Grill, I simply couldn't wait to see him again.

* * *

The trip to New York took longer than I expected. The GPS in Mick's yellow Xterra monstrosity said it was over 300 miles and I estimated that it would take six hours tops. Boy was I disappointed. It took me ten hours and forty minutes to pull into the parking lot of my old apartment duplex. Sinking into the deep seat cushions, I watched my old home. A block away was the office. Right across from it was the bails bond and a block from there the court. Big Jimmy's bar sat next doors to Sanders Investigation. The familiarity of my surroundings stirred up emotions I've thought I settled when I broke down in front of Damon.

I rummaged through my bag, fished out the keys to the apartment and got off the car. It was nine in the evening, not early for New Yorkers and there was a chance a few of the tenants were milling around the hallways. I was not in the mood for meeting and greetings. I rushed into the elevator and pressed four.

I was exhausted, out of energy and emotionally drained. The over-night bag seemed like lugging around a dead body. A young girl with pixie like hair, colored jet red was lurking outside 404.

My apartment.

Frowning, I quickened my pace. When she noticed me, her eyes widened. "Can I help you?" I asked her.

She had a twitchy way about her, as if she was addict and suffering from the munchies.

"I was told this is where Jessica Sander lives."

A momentary pang in the chest at the mention of her name. I didn't tell her mom died. "She does. I'm her daughter, Charlie. Is there something I can do for you?"

Strangers turning up at our door, demanding to talk to my mother wasn't new. Some of the clients felt safer meeting her at home. I stuck the key inside the lock.

"I've a message to relay," the girl carried on.

"Yeah, what is it and who is it from?"

I turned to look at her. She had migrated closer to me, startling me.

"It's from Klaus." The girl smiled coldly. Her face transformed into that of a vampire. My heart went from steady to racing in two seconds flat. "And he sends his greetings."

Whatever scream I could muster died when the vampire lunged forward and sunk her teeth into my neck.

Just as she nicked the skin, she let out a howl and dropped to the floor, cradling her head. My eyes darted around, looking for the source of the witchy mojo. The door to apartment 402 was open. Mrs. Giovinazzo stood in the hallway, her face wrinkled and leathery with age. She had her eyes focused on the girl, popping blood vessels in her head without breaking a sweat. A big, burly man, carrying a wooden stake emerged from her apartment.

Big Jimmy.

Without a look in my direction, I watched with fascinating horror as he drove it through the vampire's chest. She transformed to an ugly grey corpse.

"Welcome home, kiddo," Angela said with a maternal smile. "We've been expecting you."

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter. Lotta OCs. I kinda wanted to explore her story, and her family's story. There's more to her than just the Morrison family line. Also possible love interest as well. I wanna built Charlie and Damon's relationship as realistically as possible. There will be a lot up and downs and even explore the jealous side of our King Of All Jerks, Damon. Shout out to Ninja Kat for prompting that.**

**Let me know what you think.**

**Also thanks to all the readers and reviewers.**

**Reviewing gives Klaus serious heart burns.**

**xoxoxoxo**


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you recognize. CW and L.J Smith do.**

* * *

_**"History is a set of lies agreed upon- Napoleon Bonaparte**_

Welcome to my life. Where everything isn't what it seems. Where there is more than meets the eye. Insert whatever other suitable cliché you can think of, because I'm done thinking,

How many people in the world can say that they have a vampire for a classmate and friend. How many of you can say they might be smitten with a smart-assing slightly psychotic vampire. How many of you have a witch for a mother? Or a hunter AWOL father? Or the old, nice and weird lady next door neighbor as a witch?

That's right, none of you. My life's so messed up, it gives Bella Swan a very good run for her money.

I know I'm supposed to be traumatized by the bitchy vampire who took a swipe at me but really, I was just annoyed. Ever since I discovered their existence, all they had done was go for my neck. It was getting old.

"Drink this." I glanced up at Jimmy, the owner of the bar next to mom's office. He was holding a vile filled with red liquid. "It will heal your wound."

I took the vile and stared at it in disbelief. "Vampire blood? Dare I even ask where the hell you got it from." I gave him a look. "And if you say a vampire..."

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I carry some around. In case for emergency situations like this."

I turned to Angela Giovinazzo, aforementioned nice old and weird neighbor. She was fixing me some herbal tea, the scent strong and hanging thick in her apartment. "Do you hear this, Angela? He carries around blood in his back pocket. I'm trying hard not to freak out and faint from disgust."

He made a guttural noise of annoyance at the back of his throat. "Just drink."

I've had blood before. Twice. The first time, I had a vampire vice grip at the back of my neck and I was forced to drink it. The next time I was unconscious, thank God. Drinking blood on my own accord didn't appeal to me and so my hesitation was the only normal, rational reaction I've made since this ordeal started.

Pinching my eyes and nose shut, I popped the lid and downed the red liquid in one go. The sour metallic taste left in my mouth made me want to hurl. Luckily, Angela's herb tea washed it away. She placed a plate of coffee cakes on the small glass table in front of me.

The scene was so domestic and familiar that it sent a pang through my heart. I recalled all the times growing up when I'd hang around in this apartment and munch on home-made goodies.

Jim moved to the door. "I gotta run to the bar. I'll send one of the guys to bring over some food for you." He winked at me. "I know you miss my cheeseburgers."

I did. Big Jimmy's cheeseburgers was easily the best in the entire city. Smiling I said, "Can't wait. And thanks for saving my ass earlier."

He exchanged a glance with Angela, nodded and headed out. I tucked my legs under me and settled comfortably on her couch. Angela sat opposite to me, smiling tenderly.

"I guess you've a lot questions for me."  
That's an understatement. "So you're not just the eccentric old hag of 402. That means there's some truth all those things you used to ramble on and on about." A pause. "My parents knew, didn't they?"

She nodded, crossing her knobby knees. Angela might be at the far north of sixty, with metallic grey hair pulled tightly to the back in a bun, but she possessed the sharpest mind, according to my mother. And she was well connected in the city. I just wondered if it was a coincidence that two witches happened to live in the same building. When I voiced my opinion, "No, it isn't a coincidence, kiddo. It never is."

"Please don't say it's destiny." Angela is big on destiny.

She cocked her head to the left, considering her words. "When you moved here, your father was aware of this community."  
I quirked an eyebrow. "The community? Really, vague much."

"Think about it," she countered. I thought about it. Our community. Well it was diverse, everyone from Irish to Jamaicans, working class to middle class. Nothing spectacular, maybe except the fact that the precinct, court, PI and bails bond were within two block radius.

When I gave her my thoughts, she shook her head sadly, as if I was a disappointment.

"Think about it this way, of all the people you've met, what do they have in common."

"As of late, they are either supernatural entities or slayers of the supernatural entities." I gasped audibly. "My parents included."

Angela leaned forward, plucking a piece of her cake and popping it into her mouth. "Are you telling me that we moved here because of that!"

"One of the biggest rules hardwired to hunters since birth is to never settle down in one place," Angela explained. "They make a lot enemies. Sitting duck and wait for them to get you simply isn't an option, which is why you'll find most of them always on the move. But for those who do wish to plant roots and make a family and have a slice of that american dream, they are told not to stray too far from other hunters. Strength is in numbers, after all. We have that here."

I slumped back on the couch, mind reeling. "Who else is there? That we know of who are hunters."

"Well, you saw Jimmy earlier. Few of his staffs. Sal Russo." I pictured the loud-mouthed, fat assed, ethically challenged bails bonder across from our office. I guess anyone could become a hunter, even the scums of the earth. "Few of the tenants. The young Irish woman from 303 is a witch too. I've been giving her lesson recently. Hm, let's see. Yes, that cunning charmer Jonathan Gilbert." I nodded, mood turning sour. The coward left without a word in the middle of the night. "Vinnie Morino. And yes, the Winchesters."

My head snapped. "John Winchester is a hunter?" But that would explain a lot. How they never stayed in one place long enough before they bubbled wrapped their lives and hit the road. Growing up it bothered me that they dropped by unannounced and randomly, after years of deafening silence.

"Dean and Sam too," Angela carried on, a dreamy smile on her face. "Those stud-muffins have grown into fine young men. They got great faces to go with those great asses."

Meet Angela Giovinazzo, the cougar. She watches pay-per-view porn. Cross my heart and die.

"So what," I said, "Sal's a bounty hunter by day and vampire slayer by night. Forgive me, but he makes the lousiest bailsman ever, I can't imagine him staking vampires."

"_Retired _hunter," Angela replied. "Most of them are. The ones with no zip codes are the working hunters. Truth is, most of us here band together in the off chance that our past might catch up with us. Think of it as living in a forte, all of us ready to take down any outside threat."

"You say us," I pointed out. "You're a witch."  
Her eyes narrowed. "I'm also human, Charlie. It's always us against them." Dark hair and pale blue eyes flashed in my mind.

Us against them.

"You haven't told me, how did you get exposed to all of this."

Greatful for the distraction, I launched into my adventures these past months. I choked on my words when I got to the part about mom's death. Angela gave me a sympathetic smile.

"You gotta love that town," she finally spoke, her voice filled with scorn. "A magnet for all things paranormal. I was wholly against it when your mother suggested to take you to Mystic Falls. Even offered to take care of you for her."

I frowned. "She consulted you? No offense but why?"

With her wrinkled hand, she reached into her pocket and produced a packet of Malboro.

Meet Angela Giovinazzo, the chain smoker.

She lit the cigarette and blew out the smoke into the air. "I was your mother's mentor, dear." Upon my incredulous look, she grinned. "I was the one who taught her about her magic. Why do you think we were close? Certainly not for the scintillating conversations, I tell ya."

A dull ache began at the base of my head, migrating forward. Information friggin overload. Everything I thought I knew wasn't even real. I didn't know how much longer I could take these surprises.

"All her life, your mother suppressed her powers. She was taught to do it by her father."

"So what changed?" I asked.

She took a long drag and blew the poisonous smoke through her nose. "You changed."

"Pardon?"

Flicking off ash into the ashtray, she elaborated. "You were born, Charlie. She had a child to take care of. To protect. I mean, there's only so much she could rely on Gary's hunting skills. After a few run-ins with ticked off vampires, she put down her foot, asked for my help and I took pity on her."

Angela seemed conflicted, sneaking glances my way every few seconds. Like she was itching to tell me something but not sure if I could handle it. I wasn't sure of it either.

"There's something else," Angela said hesitantly. "Since you figured out their existence, I don't know what harm could come out of it."

I fisted my hand behind the push-pillow, fighting the dread.

"Jessica and Gary came to me twice and asked me to perform a spell on you."

My heart thumped.

"What sorta spell?"

"They had no choice. It was either that or you'd live in constant fear, Charlie."

My heart _really_ thumped.

"Angela. Spit. It. Out!"

She closed her eyes. "A memory spell."

It was as if her words physically slapped me. I balked and stared at her. She was rushing the words out, as if the faster they were out in the open , the sooner I'll come to terms with it.

"You were devastated!" she argued, her voice holding an urgency. "If they haven't done it, you wouldn't be this way. You wouldn't be this strong, independent girl."

"You had my memory wiped," I accused her.

"Blocked," she corrected. "There's a difference. Witches can't compel someone to forget it. But there are countless spells to block or distort memories."

The headache came on full-force, throbbing painfully. My emotional turmoil only seemed to fuel it. I felt robbed. Violated. Someone had messed with my mind. You can't come back from that. No excuse in the world could make it better. And what hurt most is the knowledge that your parents, the perfect parents that know they would literally lay down their lives for you, are the ones who did. I never questioned their love for me, I've always been the center of their world. Everyone would argue that they did it because they loved me, they wanted to protect me but...

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked her, my voice edgy.

Angela leaned forward, eyes hard. "Because Charlie, I care about you and I worry. I've already blocked your memory twice and that takes a toll on the psyche. Frequent blocking or compulsion can cause a rift in your sanity."

I sat there stunned, not moving, not breathing. As if things weren't fucked up enough. Now I had to worry about turning into a fruitcake.

"Nothing immediate," she reassured me. "But be careful. As long as you're in Mystic Falls, there's a high risk that the vampires might try to compel you." Her eyes scanned my legs. "Are you wearing your ankle bracelet."

I hiked up my jeans and glanced at the silver bracelet and back to her.

Angela nodded in satisfaction. "As long as you have it on your person, you're good."

I swung my leg off the couch and faced her, elbows on knees. "No offense Angela, but I've bigger things to worry about than getting compelled by a fucking vampire. Apparently few of my memories have been misplaced, I might wake up one day and not know my name, my entire life was built on a lie and daddy dearest is still missing." I stood up and glared at her, hard. "So hold those pearls of wisdom while I go and compartmentalize my feelings, coz they are a little outta control."

To her credit, she didn't say a word. Didn't stop me as I grabbed my bag and slammed her door shut behind me. As soon as I entered my old loft, I was greeted by hundreds of photos displayed on the walls.

Letting out one shaky breath after another, I slid down the door and cried myself to sleep, right there in the hallway while the frames of my parents smiled down at me.

* * *

_Scientist agree__ that a good cry is medicine for the health just as laughing is. By coming here, I was sure that I was only chasing the storm. Nothing I did was ever going to bring mother back. No matter how deep I dig, nothing would come out of it. But I was Jessica Sanders daughter. I was born to chase storms until I caught up with them, looked them in the eye and figured it all out._

_Unsurprisingly, I got more than I bargained for. They never lied to me per say, just withheld the truth, covered it up and muddied my perspective. A year ago I prided myself in the knowledge that my parents trusted and treated as an adult, unlike most of the other kids out there. That sentiment, thinking that you're more mature than your average teen, that was childish. In actuality, my parents were sheltering me from life, albeit in a different manner. Yes, I was allowed to work the agency cases, I was trusted with confidential material, I witnessed every flaw in humanity, but at the same time, I was misled about the reality of the world._

_There are worse things out there than cheating spouses, abusive parents, conmen and stand nothing against the monsters. Magic. Paranormal shit that are centuries old. So could you blame them for the path they chose for me. My parents were broken. Both in their own ways. Both vowed to leave that ugly life behind. But that life wasn't easy to escape. And in a sick twist of fate, I got caught up in the middle of it after all of their efforts._

_So what do I do?_

_I try to find my father and take him back. Keep chasing that storm._

* * *

Vincent 'Vinnie' Morino has been my family's attorney for as long as I can remember. The dynamics of our relationship could be described as mentor/student, or partner in crimes, or buddies. He also bailed my ass out of lock-up whenever I got a little adventurous on my cases. He even referred potential clients to us and vice versa. I owed him a lot.

Vinne moon lighted the 123rd precinct for the unrepresented felons who either didn't know their rights or didn't think they needed a lawyer. He spoke Italian fluently and some street Spanglish. He wore department store suits, nausea inducing ties of the sickest shades. He was tall, with a shock of black hair and an increasing waistline. But he was a shark in the court. Which made him easily one of the best attorney's Staten Island had.

He was also my father's best friend. They went to the ball games together, drank together. They did everything together. So if I were to have any luck squeezing information out of any of our acquaintances, Vinnie was the safest bet. Which was why I stood at the door of 123rd precinct early next morning. Some of the members of the squad recognised me as the Sander's kid and gave me nods of greetings.

Ever since I was a child I loved the feel of the bustling precinct. It reminded of a fabulously crowded train stations, all wood and people milling around. This was the place were shit went down. You felt it in the tense atmosphere, heard it when insults were swapped back and forth by cons and cops. It contrasted heavily to the quiet serenity of small towns.

I said it before and I'll say it again, I was an urban chic.

I went to the front desk, manned by a lady with enough piercings to set off an airport metal detector. And the five next ones.

"Is Vinnie Morino here?"

"He a cop?" she asked, blowing up a neon blue gum.

"Attorney. Prowls this place for clients."

A hobo started shouted from my left. Pierce lady shot him the middle finger. I rolled my eyes and mustered my patience. When she turned to me, she gave me a lethal look. "Why are you still here?"

My eyebrows rose. "Vinnie Morino."

"He a cop?"

Seriously.

"I just told you a second ago. He's an attorney!"

The bozo kept shouting. Pierce lady ignored him and looked at her papers, growing frustrated when she couldn't find what she was looking for. Then..

"Yo bozo! Get the hell outta here!"

I winced when he yelled back, blasting my eardrums. "I'mma file a complaint, you bitch!"

She turned to me. "What? You waitin' on an armed escort? Piss off, you're holding up the line. Next!"

Seriously.

I was fantasizing about ripping off her nose ring when I spotted Vinnie, emerging from the interview rooms with his briefcase. I marched over to him, but not before flipping the bitch the middle finger. Vinnie was pleasantly surprised and sad to see me. He gave me a hug, dropped a kiss on my forehead and bought me jelly donuts and mocha coffee from the cafe next to the courthouse. We exchanged pleasantries. He asked me about my life in Mystic Falls. Said he'd be by to have a legal chat with Jenna about my custody and trust fund. I stopped him there.

"You seem surprised," he stated.

"It's the first time I'm hearing anything about a trust fund."

"Well, Gary wanted to keep it hush hush. You know your parents."

No, not really. But I kept to it to myself.

I was done with mundane chit-chat. So I laid all my cards on the table. The color drained from Vinnie's tan face when I told him about my vast knowledge of the supernatural.

"Your mother knew dark magic?" he asked in shock.

I shrugged, tracing invisible stars on the table with my finger. "Apparently. According to Bonnie...she's a witch too, the spell she used was in the grimoire her Grams used to warn her off."

He wiped the sweat from his brow with a napkin. "Cause of death? Officially that is."

"Cerebral hemmoraghe."

He nodded, drumming his fingers against the table top. He spaced out, eyes unfocused. He was struggling, whether to grief in front of the orphaned daughter or not.

"But I'm not here for that," I said, snapping him out his reverie. He glanced at the clock. Busy man. "I'm here for my father. No, don't give me that look. I know you know something else." His cellphone went off and he read the name, cursed under his breath.

"I've a court appearance in fifteen, Charlie. Let's catch up later."

When he got to his feet, I copied him. "Dad didn't go to write a book did he?" When he refused to look at me I knew I was right. "This has something to do with the supernatural, right. Oh my God, he went hunting!"

Vinnie licked his lips and shook his head. "There's much more to this that you don't know about, Charlie. Much, much, much more."

"Then tell me!" I pleaded. "I wanna know. I need to know."

"Not now."  
"Why? So you could spin me a good, plausible lie and mislead me again. I'm not that kid anymore, Vinnie." Grabbing my purse I rushed past him. Slipping into the sunny street, I spun on him when he called for me.

"Wait. Wait." He held my elbow lightly and looked down at me. "Look, your father and I, we were tight. But he wouldn't tell me what the hell he was researching. Passed it off as his usual criminal coverage and the bull. I didn't believe him for a second." His face hardened. "I care about you, Charlie. You have a life now, don't risk it by chasing something bigger than you."

I couldn't make that promise to myself. But I did it for him, anyway, hoping that God didn't strike me down for lying.

"Tell me what you know, Vinnie?"

He shifted on his feet, checked the time and sighed. "Detective Fred Pulaski. He's the man you wanna speak to. He's an informant for us. For hunters," he added urgently. "Whenever there's a suspicious case with supernatural finger prints all over it, he handles it. Even referred them to your agency."

My jaw was slack, eyes wide as I processed this.

But Vinnie was on tight schedule and on a roll. "Yes. We handle supernatural cases. Been doing it before you even came along. It's how we survive, Charlie. And yeah, your parents do it too. Anyway, Pulaski probably knows more than he lets on. You should pay him a visit."

I stood there, blinking stupidly. He pressed another kiss to my forehead. "I gotta run. But I'll see you soon, kiddo."

What they don't tell you is that, chasing the storm is exhausting. It wears you down and breaks your soul. I need closure.

Damn it, I need it bad.

* * *

**A/N: No canon characters in this chapter. But I hope you liked it anyway. Did the characters fall flat or were they realistic.**

**Also read and review peeps! I love you for it!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: The CW and L.J Smith own TVD**

* * *

_**There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment- Sarah Dessen- The Truth About Forever.**_

Every now and then things don't always go according to plan. And so you've to resort to the oldest trick in the book; using, or _abusing_ your feminine wiles. And when that backfires in your face, you have to improvise and think on your feet.

Fail proof: throwing the hissy fit.

No man, no matter how big, strong and stoic can ignore the tap works, the sobs and hiccups. Go all out. Don't be shy. Don't feel pathetic. The reward is worth it.

Second grade detective Fred Pulaski was in his mid thirties with blond hair and blue eyes. He tried his best to deflect all of my questions. He went so far as to grab me by the arm and shove me towards the door. So I bawled my eyes out. Even though most of it was theatrical, there was a hint of truth buried beneath it.

To appease and get rid of me, he gave interesting information. The last time he spoke to my father, he told him about some shady ring of prostitution that was operating out of Sullivan's Tavern. Might seem like your regular vice case, but it wasn't. The Sullivan family were long standing mob citizens in Staten Islands since the early sixties. They were eyeball deep in shit. Everything from assault to murder. Legends have it that there's an entire wing for them at the Pelican Bay.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Except the Sullivan's Tavern was home to vampires and vampire groupies. Yes, they have groupies. The sex ring were human girls bought and sold off to vampires. Kinky and freaky as hell. And apparently my dad thought it was his civic duty to intervene. That's all I got from my buddy Freddie.

I zoomed the lens on my Nikon D90 and clicked away. At four in the afternoon, the Tavern was mostly empty. I took photos from Mick's Xterra, parked a hundred yards away. I wasn't sure how I was going to play this one out but it was crucial to enter and get a feel of the place. Maybe woo the bartender, or play the groupie angle. I couldn't tell until I've laid eyes on the man.

A van backed into the alley and a few of the staff began loading off kegs of beers. I snapped a few more photos. For the past half an hour, I've seen assorted customers and workers enter and exit the place. No sign of Larry Sullivan, the eldest son and owner of the bar. Probably the leader of the whole operation. Knowing my father, he probably had a word with him. But just because I haven't spotted him didn't mean he wasn't already inside.

Time to stop hesitating and getting my ass into gear. I was nervous and that meant I've been out of my game for way too long. Pulling out the pins from my hair, I let my curls loose and unbuttoned my top two buttons. Taser, mace, fake ID, hand sanitizer and cellphone were all there in my bag.

_Here goes nothing!_

As soon as I stepped in, my wild beating heart slowed down. It was a regular bar. An empty wooden space that serves as the dance floor. A dozen or so tables pushed to the far corner with chairs over turned on them. Regular. Ordinary.

_That's what they were aiming for_, I reminded myself.

Less than ten people milled around, drinking, eating and chatting away. Some played pool, some stood by the jukebox, beer in hand.

Appearances, appearances.

Painting a smile on my face, I approached the bartender with an extra sway in my hips. The guy, young, dark disheveled hair, leered at me after raking his eyes over me.

"What's your poison?" he asked.

"Just a Bud," I answered him, placing my bag in front of me as I climbed the bar stool.

The boy eyed me. "I hate to do this, but I gotta see some ID."

I nodded, extracted a California License and handed it to him. He glanced at it, then back at me and then back to the license.

"It's totally, like, legit," I told him in my best Valley-girl voice.

He smirked and handed it back. "So what brings you to the city, Ashley."

"I'm visiting my grandma. She's a little," I twirled a finger over my temple. Universal sign language for loopy. "She was driving me kinda mad so I escaped." I sipped the beer, trying not to grimace as it went down. I was not a big drinker. Light-weight. But Ashley Monroe was a party animal, UCLA graduate, majored in travel and tourism.

I had to be in character. So I flirted a little and he reciprocated eagerly. I think the push bra and skin-tight jeans helped too.

Nick, that was his name, Nick Sullivan, nephew of Larry Sullivan. Good ol' Nick was getting ahead of himself, thinking he was going to get lucky tonight. I didn't burst his bubble. Especially when his bubble made him forthcoming with information.

A tall man, with helluva stubble and shaved head emerged from a door to the side. Staff only. Yeah. I was so totally checking that out. "Nick! We need a keg down here!" he hollered from across the room.

"I'm busy!" Nick hollered back. He wasn't. He was just horny. The man grumbled and went behind the counter himself and gave a cursory look around. When his eyes landed on me, I smiled like a ditz and wiggled my fingers at him. He snorted through his nose, picked up a cartoon from the floor and whispered something to Nick before leaving. Nick's face grew dark.

"What's wrong?" I asked him. He glanced at me and shook his head.

"Uh, nothing. Why don't you...can you wait here? I'll be right back."

Before I could open my mouth, he rushed off, chasing after the guy.

_Interesting._

I felt my cellphone vibrate. I checked it. Another call from Elena. I let it go to voice-mail. I probably should pick it up but I was afraid that when I heard her voice, or any of the people I left in Mystic Falls, that my resolve would break and I'd roll up my tent and go back without accomplishing anything. As long as Jenna thought I was with Bonnie then all was well. Her call was the only one I answered. And West's.

Sighing, I put it back in my bag, threw a bill that would cover my drink and got up. I walked around, migrating closer to the mysterious door.

Supernaturals have to hide something. And I bet it was in there. Just as I stood there, staring at it, the door swung open and a breathless Nick was there. His eyes widened in alarm when he saw me.

"I was just looking for the rest room," I explained, trying to see over his shoulder. It was dark. And stairs led to a basement of some sort. He grabbed my hand and pulled me away.

"You need to get the hell out of here!" he hissed. "Move!"

"What?Why? I just need to use-"

"Get out! Now!" he said harshly. "Get into your car and drive the fucking away from here." My heart rate accelerated. "And don't ever come back."

I yanked back my hand. "Tell me what the fuck is going on, Nick?"

The door slammed open and the man from earlier fixed his gaze at us. His eyes narrowed dangerously. Nick cursed beside me. The man crooked a finger and beckoned for us. I felt stuck. Caught.

Shit.

"C'mon in darling," he drawled.

"No thank you," I muttered. As much as I wanted to know what the hell was going on there, I knew when to cut my losses and run. My cover was blown. I was sure of it.

"Nick." It was one word but it held so many unspoken sentences. _Nick, bring her. Nick, mess up and it's on you. Nick, do not fuck with me. _

So Nick's fingers gripped my arm. I tried to tug away.

"Let go,"I warned him. "Or I'll make a scene."

"Don't!" he hissed. "No one will care. You'll only piss them off more."

He literally dragged me towards the big hulk of a guy. The man's lips curled into a smug grin. "Be gentle, son. Roughin' her up isn't gonna please Jake."

Nick shot the guy a dirty look before shoving us forward and down the stairs. Soft country music drifted from the basement, the acrid smell of smoke and beer and sweat hang thick in the air. It burned my eyes and itched the back of my throat. The lightning was dim, almost nonexistent so I had to squint real hard to keep from falling.

Funny enough, my pulse wasn't racing, my palms weren't sweaty and I wasn't trembling. I was simply anticipating. Wondering what I would find. Curiosity trumped fear. Not smart but it couldn't be helped.

What I found shouldn't have been a shock to my system but it was, nonetheless. The place was packed. And it was also an upgrade from the floor above. A combination of mirrors and mahogany, music playing in the background, people milling around. It was seductive.

But upon closer look, it terrified me. Among smoking pot and shooting up, a few ladies were lap dancing men in nothing but few strategically placed triangles covering their private parts. Some were completely nude. This was porn in the making. But that didn't make my stomach twist. It was the blood. The red liquid flowed freely, from the necks of the so-called prostitutes/groupies, from the bar at the far corner, from blood bags. There was blood_ every where_. Vampires all around. Which explained the dark room.

_Oh God_.

Now was the perfect time to freak out. Nick's breath brushed against my ear. "I'm gonna get you outta this. Just play it cool. Jake only wants to talk to you."

Jake Sullivan. Younger brother of Larry. Responsible for a dozen arson, battery assaults and even the murder of a gang banger. But there wasn't a single evidence to pin him for anything. But we all knew it was Jake. Everyone knew it. He was a sadistic sociopath with a taste for violence.

He was by the pool table at the far end, the atmosphere around him filled with smoke. He wore a wife beater with splotches of red.

_Blood, Charlie, splotches of blood_.

His black hair was unruly and hang loose. A scar ran under his left eye all the way to his chin. His one bicep was bigger than both of my thighs. When he saw us, he motioned us forward and the rest of the players scattered with a single look.

"Well, what do we have here?" he mused when I stood before him. "A pretty face and slammin' bod."

My throat went dry as he appraised me. Nick was visibly tense beside me. Jake noticed. "Get along, Nick. This has nothing to do you."

"Uncle Jake, please-"

"I said go, son. Don't force me to raise my hand."

Nick glared at him and stood his ground. I was impressed. Uncle Jake, not so much.

Jake cracked his knuckles and said, "I warned you, son."

It happened so fast, I didn't even have a time to react. One second I was staring between the two of them, scared that things might get out of hand and the next second, my face whipped to the side from the slap Jake delivered. I stood there, seeing stars and tasting blood.

"What about now? No, alright..." Strong hands grabbed my hair roughly, making hiss from the pain.

"Okay! Okay!" Nick yelled. "I'm leavin, just let her go."

Tears collected in the corners of my eyes. I heard Nick's footsteps recede and Jake let go my hair so suddenly, I stumbled and braced the pool table for support. With trembling fingers, I gingerly touched my bloodied lips.

"So Ashley," Jake carried on conversationally. "What brings you to my humble home."

I sent him a look of pure hatred. "I came for a drink."

He smirked and leaned closer, taking a whiff of me. "Let's try that again, sugar. Why are you here?"

Realizing that he was onto me, I blurted out, "I'm a reporter. For a small local paper. The Tribune. I was just-"

With disgusting ease, he swept me off my feet and slammed against the pool table, knocking the air out my legs. For a moment, I lay there, shocked.

Jake whooped loudly and jumped on the table and pointed his cue stick over my throat.

"Wanna change that story, sugar." He trapped me underneath him. All I could do was lie there, trembling. Serves me right, for walking in here, acting as if ten feet tall. "Last chance," he drawled. "Going once. Going twice...time out!" He raised the cue over his head and brought it down hard. I let out a yelp and shut my eyes. Wood splintered and dug into my cheeks. I opened one eye and heaved in relief. But the relief soon turned to real, primal fear when I saw the cue drill a hole on the table and stuck out two inches away from my head.

"Hey Marty!" he called over his head. "You know this pretty girl here?"

"The Sanders kid!" Marty hollered back.

_Fuck_.

Jake's eyes glinted evilly when he looked into my wide ones. He dropped to his knees, straddling me in the process. I was soon going to hyperventilate. My chest pounded painfully. But I swallowed back my fear and carried on. "Where's my father?"

He chuckled. "I'll tell you what I tol' ya mother, girl. I don't have a fuckin' clue." He leaned in closer, the stench of his beer breath churning my stomach. His lips were inches from mine. "But I sincerely hope he is dead." He placed his hands on my hips and I bucked, trying to get away. He cackled and nuzzled my neck, making my skin crawl.

"Stop it! I cried, tears splashing. "Please! Help! Help!"

It took me a second to realize that everyone here would rather jump in on the action that stop it, which only made my heart drop. When Jake raised his head, fangs protruded from his mouth, the nerves under his eyes bulging.

Jake was a vampire. When did he become a vampire?

"Your smell is intoxicating," he told me. "I'll help myself to a little taste. Just a little-"  
"Do that and every hunter in I've ever crossed path will gun for you," I interrupted him. Scaring him was the only chance I had in surviving this shit hole I managed to get myself into.

He retracted his fangs and smiled in amusement. "Is that so?"

"Yes. The entire vampire-killing council of Mystic Falls has my back. The Mayor, also the head of the council is my mother's best friend. Hurt me and they will get to you."  
I could see the hesitation in his eyes. He brushed it aside. "Yeah, right. Hold on a tick, sweetie, while I tremble in fear."

"A cop pointed me here. If I don't call him back in twenty, he'll come looking for me. So will Vinnie Morino. And Mrs. Giovinazzo. The witch." That was a lie. None of them knew where I was. But Jake wasn't aware of that.

The smile fell from his face. He gripped my throat. "I don't believe you," he whispered. "I've to call out your bluff." His fangs appeared again and he lowered them to my throat.

I played my final card, hoping it would mean something to him.

"Spill my blood and you'll have to answer to the Salvatore brothers."

He froze. I breathed out in relief. So the Salvatores did have a reputation, after all.

"What did you say?"

"Stefan and Damon Salvatore," I carried on, keeping my voice steady. "I know them. In fact, I've them on speed-dial. You don't wanna cross them. Especially Damon."

"I second that," a familiar voice said from the distant. I craned my neck and there stood Elena. No. Katherine. It was the expression on her face that gave her away. A mixture of cockiness and amusement. Definitely not my friend.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, shocked.

"Saving your ass," she replied and then gave Jake a leveled look."Might wanna get off her if you wanna keep your balls. Damon doesn't like it when other people touches his toys. He gets psychotic."

"Katherine," the big man squealed.

"Good! You've heard of me."

A hush fell over the entire room. Even the music died. Katherine demanded everyone's attention. She inspired fear in every individual. Myself included. When the psychotic vampire bitch is there to save you, something is seriously not right in the world.

Jake jumped off the pool table, eyes wide. I clambered down quickly, grabbing my purse from the ground and stood next to Katherine who was watching Jake with a tilted head.

"Oh Jake, don't pout. I'm saving your life. Everything she told you is true." She chuckled. "She's also the sole heiress of the Morrisons. And had you had a slight bite, you'd be ripped apart left,right _and_ center by hunters before you even had a single drop of blood."

He shuddered and glanced at me. It was my turn to shudder.

"Now, tell her what she wants to know," Katherine carried on.

"I don't know anything," he replied. Too fast. Too rehearsed. Katherine smiled cruelly. In a second, she was at the other end of the room, clutching one of the girls. She snapped her neck and the girl dropped dead. I covered my mouth to stop the scream that threatened to burst out. Jake was furious.

"Let's try that again, sugar," she quoted back at him. "Wanna change that answer? Coz I'll be snapping these girls' necks like there's no tomorrow. It's gonna cost you a fortune. And Larry's wrath. We don't want that to happen, right."  
Jake turned to me with blazing eyes. "Your old man came to us last year. Threatened Larry. They argued. Got a little outta hand. They swung at each other and then your father left, shouting about how he was gonna expose us and the whole nine yards. That's all I know."

My heart squeezed tightly with worry and dread. "Did you kill him?"

He flicked his gaze to where Katherine stood, poised to kill yet another girl. "No, we didn't. We're not stupid enough to have the entire NYPD on our case. Your pop walked outta here with both his feet."

"See, that wasn't so hard," Katherine said. "You gotta learn to share, Jake." She sank her fangs into the girls neck and drank greedily. I averted my eyes and tried to blend in with the shadows. No luck. When she was sated, Katherine wiped her lips and smiled at me.

"Let's go Charlie. I think we've outstayed our welcome."

The only reason I followed her out was that the option of staying back in that room was worse. We walked out without anyone attempting to stop us. Once outside, she turned to me with a hand on her hip.

"You aren't going to thank me," she stated.

I looked her in the eye. "What's your deal, Katherine? You don't help out people. You destroy them. You enjoy crushing them with your stilettos. So what gives?"

She grinned. At that second, it was like sitting across from Elena at the Grille, sharing jokes and laughing about it. Only Elena was miles away, worried out her wits. This was Katherine Pierce. A clone. A strong vampire. The one who turned Stefan and Damon. The one who destroyed Damon, turning him into a self-loathing psychotic jack-ass.

She is bad news, through and through.

She waved a hand dismissively. "I was bored. There's nothing remotely interesting happening in Mystic Falls. And I couldn't stand another second and witness the epic and nauseatingly sweet love of Stefan and Elena or as I like to call them, Stelena."

"Jealous much?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Katherine narrowed her eyes. "One of these days that mouth of yours is gonna get you killed." She backed away. "And I don't get jealous, Charlie. Jealousy is a human weakness. I get even." With that, she sasheyed away, having made her point.

If she wasn't such an lying, manipulative and murdering bitch, I might have had some respect for the girl.

She was bad-ass.

* * *

_"Ladies and gentlemen, kindly put your seat-belts back on. We're shortly arriving at JFK. Thank you for flying with us."_

Damon glanced out the window, seeing the skyline of New York City in all it's glory. He spent great many years here, partying and ruling the city. He loved the anonymity the big city had to offer. The culture. The hectic atmosphere. So different from Mystic Falls. It was intoxicating.

And he could feed on anyone without fearing the consequences. Big cities always trumped small towns. But he hadn't take the first flight out of Virginia to sight see or reminisce old times. He took it for Charlie. She could never again accuse him of not caring; he's flying fucking commercial. Damon doesn't fly. And he doesn't do commercials.

He played with his ring anxiously. He was worried. Yes, Damon Salvatore was worried beyond belief. So worried that a momentary loss of sanity led him to the airport and onto this flight. And all it took was one call from the bitch from hell.

He had been nursing a drink at the Grille, plotting ways to out Mason as the werewolf they all knew he was. But he couldn't focus. Bottle green eyes and soft brown skin pushed through all of his thoughts. Elena had everyone on edge, whining about how Charlie could be in danger, or hurt or...

Anyway, Damon tried calling her. He scrolled through his contact list and pressed green at Shortie. He was greeted by her cheerful voice asking to leave a message. He didn't. She was only gone for one night. Besides, she probably never wanted to speak to him. Like ever. And he was to blame.

But then few seconds later, his phone rang. It was a number he didn't recognize. Damon sat up straighter, hoping that it was her. It wasn't.

It was Katherine.

"What do you want?" he muttered.

"Aw, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. You used to be so much nicer, Damon."  
"What do you want, bitch?" He really couldn't deal with her. Not now.

"You're so whipped," she mused in amusement. "I mean, I get that she's pretty to look at. And with fierce personality. But seriously, how can she effect you that much?"

Damon's mood took a turn for the worse. "What the hell do you want?" he growled, the glass in his hand cracking from the sheer force of his grip.

"I had a little adventure today," Katherine gushed on. "So much fun. I almost forgot how amazing it is here in New York."

And it all fell into place for him. He was on his feet in a second, pushing through the crowd.

"Anyway, I saw Charlie there. My oh my, the shit she got herself into."  
"Where she is?" he demanded.

"She was two seconds away from getting gang-raped by a bunch of baby vampires when I stepped in..."

Damon's sure steps faltered, the image of Charlie, _his_ Charlie being touched...He saw red. Rage swept through him. So manic, so feral he needed to hit something. Break something. Kill something.

"Where is she?" he had asked in a hoarse voice. "Tell me where she is or so help me God-"

"Let's not make threats we both now you can't carry out, Damon. You keep forgetting that I'm older and stronger than you."

He breathed through his nose, even though he didn't need to.

"Is she safe?"

Because in the end, that's all that mattered to him. That she was alive, well and breathing. To hell if Charlie never wanted to see him again. To hell with Katherine and her gloating. To hell with the world.

When the plane landed, he was the first one out the door. He headed straight to the parking lot and took the rental car to the address Katherine had giving after he literally pleaded with the bitch. She had also given him some valuable information.

Jake Sullivan and his posse. Their days were numbered.

It was a little past ten when he illegally parked the car on the side of the street. Glancing up at the apartment duplex, he consulted the scrap of paper in his hand. Apartment 404.

In a flash he was in front of the door, unsure of how to proceed. He didn't know what he would do if he found her hurt or worse...

_Go on a killing rampage. Duh._

He shushed the crazy voice in his head and rang the door, praying to whatever deity that existed. Dead silence. With trembling fingers, he rang the bell again.

"C'mon, Shortie._ C'mon_,_ c'mon,_ _ !_"

His enhanced hearing didn't catch any movement inside the apartment. He took in a shuddering breath and raked fingers through his hair. Maybe paying those bastards a visit would be a good idea.

A very bloody, very painful-

"Damon."

He spun on his heels at the sound of his name. Bottle green eyes and soft brown skin. Green eyes that were wide with surprise and soft brown skin covered in bruises and blood.

He startled her when he flashed before her and cupped her face.

"What are -how did you-"

"Kathrine," he told her.

"Oh."

There was blood at the corner of her lips, bruises standing out on her neck and arms. With every inflicted flaw on her skin, the burning in his chest grew. She stood there, perfectly still, watching him watch her.

"You okay?" he asked her, looking deeply into her eyes.

She smiled softly. "I'm okay."

"Okay." He brushed back the soft curls that framed her face and savored the warmth of her skin. The flow of her life. Of her blood. Damon was well aware of how unlike himself he was behaving, but he couldn't be bothered to stop himself. For one scary moment, he thought she was gone from this world, completely. He tried to deny he cared for her every time. The night when she was first attacked in the woods. The night in the burning basement. The night he held her tightly as she fell apart in his arms. The night she walked into his room, eyes blazing and disappointed at him for snapping Jeremy's neck and slamming the door behind her with such force, he thought there was no coming back from what he did.

And here she was now, broken and beaten, staring at him strangely and expecting. Charlie Sanders. She got under his skin and he didn't want to shake her out. Charlie Sanders, the one who questioned him, stood up to his bullshit and wasn't afraid of him. The only one who didn't try to constantly change him. It shook him to his core; the realization that she truly accepted him for who he really is. That with her, he was different. No agendas. No ulterior motives. No competing. No proving points or trying to be the better man. Being around her meant being himself. Damon Salvatore, the dick, the vampire, the broken-hearted man, the lost cause. She accepted him in all of his ways.

"Hey there Shortie," he mumbled, rubbing his thumbs against the smooth skin of her face. "I'm glad you're fine."

"I'm glad you're here," she whispered shyly, ducking her eyes. He felt the heat of her skin as she flushed, the pitter-patter of her heart.

Without giving it much thought, he dipped his head and captured her lips in his own.

She gasped against his mouth and he chuckled silently. He kissed deeply encouraging her, and soon she joined him, both of them in sync And when their tongues touched, Damon felt her shiver against his body. He suppressed the urge to slam her against the wall and have his way with her. When she pulled back to breathe, her lips swollen and ripe and inviting, she gazed at him as if he was the only man in the world and it did fucked up things to his dead heart.

So he cracked a joke. "I could get used to that."

She gulped, nodded and said, "Me too."

"We should fight more often."

"Agreed."

"At least once a week."

"Deal."

"But let's not do the whole door-slamming, town-skipping-"

"Damon," she called impatiently. "Just shut up and kiss me."

Smirking, he lifted her off her feet and she shrieked in laughter, the sweetest music to his ears. He kissed her passionately and fiercely.

Katherine was right. She was always right.

Damon Salvatore was whipped.

Again.

* * *

**A/N: Wow! I'm finally here. All this time i've been trying to get to this part. I wonder if you enjoyed it. I really hope so.**

**Also, I'm feeling a little under-whelmed with the lack of review in the last couple of chapters. What's up? Not liking the direction that the story is heading. Let me know, folks.**

**Read and review as always!**

**xoxoxoxoxo**


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: The CW and L.J Smith own TVD. What you don't recognize is mine.**

* * *

_**Selfishness must always be forgiven you know, because there is no hope of a cure- Jane Austen.**_

Guilty pleasures. We all have them. We enjoy them in the privacy of our homes, behind locked doors, away from the judging eyes of the world. I have a few like the rest of them. Don't tell anyone but I'm a sucker for romantic comedies. And Glee. And Nicholas Sparks.

Sue me, bitches.

But the biggest pleasure that fills me with guilt is a certain raven haired man and his provocative lips. Fantastic lips that make my toes curl and eyes roll back. I shivered as he nibbled my earlobe.

"My phone," I breathed out.

Damon dropped a trail of kisses down my neck, sucking on the skin lightly. "Yeah, it rings," he mumbled, voice muffled. The persistent singing-voice of Madonna was nagging me. Apparently I only had four minutes to save the world. Reaching out to my bedside table for the offending object, Damon licked my collarbone, making me gasp in mixture of surprise and pleasure.

"I've to pick...it..._uhn_!" In one fluid motion, Damon grabbed my roaming hand and flipped us around.

"Don't," he told me as I straddled him and he gripped my hips tightly. "It will only ruin this." His cool fingers walked up on my bare arms. "I want to keep you to myself."

That was followed by The Look. It was heated, it was smoldering, it was pure sex. It set my insides on fire. Dipping my head, I captured his lips and parted them, exploring his mouth. There was nothing dignified about this kiss. Strictly rated R. Damon thrust his hips, causing me to moan deliciously against his lips. I followed his rhythm, my hands tracing the contours of his perfectly sculptured chest.

Man, could this guy drive me nuts.

The phone stopped ringing and started up again. Growling, I made a move for it but Damon intercepted, staring at the screen.

"What?" I asked, seeing his frown. "Who's it?"

"Elena."

"Oh." He looked into my eyes, torn between taking the call or continuing. I didn't like the hesitation. Seconds ago he wanted to shut out the world and now, because _Elena_ called, he actually contemplated picking it up.

"Maybe we should -"

I crashed my lips against his, cutting off his words. Grinding against him, I plucked the phone out of his hand easily and tossed it aside. Two seconds later, he had me pinned underneath his body, his tongue licking the pulse point on my neck, Elena forgotten.

I was vaguely aware of my crazy antics. I was being super slutty but fuck it, it's Damon Salvatore. And yes, Elena loved Stefan but I'd be stupid not to know that Damon held a torch for her. If he was in my bed, I'd make sure that I was the only woman in his mind.

He smacked sloppy kisses behind my ears, my neck, my collarbone, the valley between my breasts. When the thin material of my tank top got in his way, he literally ripped it down the middle, leaving me in nothing but bra and boy short.

"You're crazy," I laughed breathlessly. "You're an animal. You need to be locked up."

Damon flung the tattered material across the room and grinned in appreciation. "And_ you_ are hot."

The retort died in my throat and out came a shameless moan when he began to pepper my stomach with wet kisses. And bites. I wouldn't wear a bikini for a long time if he kept it up.

I ran my fingers through his silky hair and involuntarily, my body jerked and arched towards him when his tongue set a trail of blazing flame. Damon fluidly slipped between my thighs and caressed them. I was in heaven. Damon was heaven. Damon was hell. He was the most pleasurable pain.

My heart thumped loudly as he slowly, deliberately undid the strings of my waistband. I let out a shuddering breath and when our eyes locked, I felt like I might spontaneously combust. Each and every nerve in my body was in tune with his touches.

Eyes still on me, he pressed a kiss to my exposed hip bone.

"Damon," I sighed, closing my eyes.

"Hm?"

"Wha...are we..doin'?"

"Dunno."

"Maybe we sh-should stop before we-"

"Do you like it?" He leaned forward, every inch of his body flushed against mine. He nuzzled my neck. "Do you like it? Because I do."

I flushed brightly, feeling his desire. "Throw caution to the wind, Shortie." He kissed me deeply. "Let's celebrate."

I chuckled. "Celebrate what?"

Damon shrugged, blue eyes twinkling. "I don't know. Anything and everything. Hunger relief. Cure for cancer. Hell, even world peace."

I cupped his cheek and brushed the pad of my thumb over his high cheekbones. "You do realize none of the causes you stated actually happened."

"Exactly." Wiggling eyebrows. "But if we work hard, seven days a week, 365 days a year, we'll bound to have a break-through."

"Your reasoning is crap."

"But my love-making abilities are legendary." He thrust against me, earning him a moan. "I'll ruin other men for you."

And I didn't doubt him at all.

Just as I pulled him down for another breathtaking kiss, the doorbell rang. Groaning, I fell back in bed. Damon wasn't happy either.

"We should ignore it," he stated. The ringing became insistent. Knocking joined the tempo too.

"What the hell?" I sat up and pushed Damon off. "It's as if the whole fucking world is conspiring against us."

Damon tossed me his silk button-up shirt. "I really think they are. Wouldn't want the big, bad wolf corrupting the not-so innocent virgin. It's a joke in cosmic level."

I gave him a strained smile and I wore his shirt. Cosmic joke since I really wasn't virgin. Damon was already in the hallway, opening the front door. I took a whiff, relishing the musky smell of expensive cologne and strong shampoo.

"Can I help you?" Damon's voice floated to the room.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I heard Angela snap.

_Oh shit_.

I rushed out, wondering just how I'd clear up this mess.

The thing about guilty pleasures, it's best when it's kept a secret.

Damon's howl of pain propelled me forward. He was writhing on the floor, shirtless and cradling his head.

"Stop it!" I yelled at Angela. She gave me an appraising look before sending a glare in Damon's direction.

"I saw a vampire, I fried his brain." She eyeballed Damon shamelessly while he got to his feet and leaned against the wall for support. "It was a reflex reaction."

"Shortie, what kinda company do you keep?"

"I could ask the same thing," Angela muttered before sweeping past us into the living room. "A vampire foolish enough to enter the home of the slayers of his kind."

I rolled my eyes and closed the door. "He's a friend."

I entered the room, Damon in tow. Angela sat down and crossed her legs. "With benefits from where I stand."

I didn't bother to dignify that with a response. Instead, I crossed my arms and stared hard at the lady. "Is there a reason why you came here?"

"Do I have to have a reason to drop by?"

"What do you want?"

"Why do you think I want something, Charlie?"

"Can you please stop answering my questions with more questions?"

Her gaze flicked to the silent figure in the corner questioningly. "It's alright. You can talk in front of him. He knows everything."

Not _everything_, everything. Last night, after his surprise visit, I filled him in, downsizing and omitting a few. Like the Jake Sullivan incident, I simply told him that I was pushed around. And for the punk messenger vampire incident, I didn't include that part. Damon was already on edge, his jaws set tightly and eyes hard. Besides, the bitch was taken care of. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Angela took out a cigarette. Damon's eyebrows rose.

"What the hell were you thinking," she began. "Going to the Sullivans by yourself?"

"That's what I would like to know," Damon added.

"How the hell do you know that?" I asked Angela, really curious.

"Vinnie told me."

"Who told Vinnie?"

"Pulaski."

I blinked. "So...Pulaski was following me? Then why didn't he help me when I needed it?"

Angela took a long drag and blew out the smoke. "Oh, Pulaksi wasn't following you dear. No. He got intel from his snitch. Had one planted right there in the heart of the Tavern."

I flashed back to the dark room, filled with vampires and the blood and sex. I shuddered and hugged myself. Damon was beside me in an instant, his palm steady against the small of my back. Angela watched us with a cocked head.

"You know, I get that your parents were hippies and raised you to be liberal minded, but don't you think you're taking this a little too far." She cut her eyes to the almost nonexistent space between Damon and I. "Hanging around vampires and sleeping with them. I know Jessica and Gary set the bar high with their interracial love but, inter_species_...now that's just weird. Which coming from me is rich, since I'm into all kinda weird kinky shit."

I scoffed in disbelief, words escaping me. Angela was blunt, a trait admired in her. I had forgotten that. Damon wrapped his arm around my waist tightly and said, "Our sex doesn't concern you, Witch."

Angela wasn't fazed. "You're right. It doesn't. But you know what concerns me. Charlie does. I've known this squirt since she was a baby. And I'll be damned if some vampire starts using her as his own personal toy." Her eyes hardened around the corner and for the first time I saw what my mom meant when she said that Angela was a wise and strong woman. This old lady in front of me wasn't the perverted, weird neighbor who made coffee cakes on Sundays and brought them over to us. No, this was an old lady with weathered eyes who has crammed more life experiences than the rest of her peers. "Hurt her in any way and I'll skewer you like kebab."

Damon growled. "I'd like to see you -"

"Okay!" I yelled between them. "Time out. Phew. Did this get weird really fast or what? Angela, I can take care of myself and Damon is not the enemy. In fact, he saved my ass more than once."

"Doesn't mean you start fucking-"

"AND!" I raised my voice. "Mom's met him. Fried his brain. Twice. Staked him and also gutted him like fish." It seemed as if it happened a lifetime ago. "Bottom line: Mom approves."

Angela wasn't sold. "What about your dad?"

That shut me up real good. Guilty. I burned brightly in indignation. I felt small, like a child chided for bad behavior. Damon tensed.

"He doesn't get a vote," he snapped. "He isn't here."

My hackles rose. "Dad will understand." I glared at Angela. "If you're done pissing me off, I suggest you step out."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Time to change the subject." She stubbed out the cigarette on the table. I hissed in irritation. She pretended not to notice. "Let's get back to the reason why you paid the local mob a visit."

Damon played with my curls. "My father was last seen there."

"I knew that."

"You_ knew_!" I repeated accusingly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you didn't ask."

"You could've spared her the trauma," Damon said in a tight voice.

She waved a hand away dismissively, as if it was no biggie. "What's life without a little adventure."

"I had my fair share," I mumbled. "Anyway, I just wanted to check out the place, ask around if they've seen him but it went downhill from that. Apparently, my reputation exceeds me."

Angela steepled her fingers. "Actually, Gary was last spotted in Oregon."

I stood still for a while, staring at her. She stared back and smiled softly. "Your mother told me."

An irrational rage swept through me and in that moment, I hated mom. Hated her for leaving me alone to swim through all the lies, secrets and questions. I tugged myself free from Damon's hold and slumped down on the couch, one thought swirling in my mind.

_Oregon._

What the hell was in Oregon?

"When was that?"

"Half a year ago."

Oh God. I let my head drop in my hands and took in deep breaths._ Half a year ago_. Half a year ago was when mom bubble wrapped my life and threw me at Jenna. She was chasing after Dad. And she lied to me.

"I really think you should leave," Damon spoke, the threat barely veiled. "You're starting to piss me off."

"No," I croaked and sat up straighter. I blinked the tears away. "What else? Any more surprises left? Because I'm all ready. I swear, I won't even flinch."

Angela brow creased and she stood up to take a seat beside me. With bony fingers, she brushed back my hair tenderly. "I'm sorry you had to go through this. I wish she took my advice and left you here."

I wish that too, sometimes.

"Who..who spotted him in Oregon?" I asked.

She took a deep breath. "Jonathan Gilbert."

I couldn't help it, I balked and stared at her in disbelief. "No."

"I'm sorry."

"No." I shook my head. "You don't understand. Uncle Jon was living under our roof for weeks. _Weeks_. He sat across from at the dining table." I gasped for air. "He looked me in the eye and told me he had no idea where Dad was."

"Which just proves what a bastard he is," Damon offered comfortingly.

"Everyone has been lying to me. Mom. Dad. Uncle Jon." Angela pulled me to her chest and I closed my eyes, trembling with unshed tears and simmering rage. Fisting my hands, I focused on the pain in my palms as my nails drew blood.

"They were trying to protect you," she whispered softly. "They thought they were doing you a favor."

"By dying on me while the other abandoned me!"

"Your father hasn't abandoned you, Charlie. He'd never do that."

"Yeah." I drown down a hysterical sob. "I thought so too."

She rocked me in a comforting rhythm but I pulled away. "Anything else?"

"Charlie-"

"Anything else?" I demanded.

Angela shook her head. "That's all I know."

"Fine." I chewed on my lower lip. "I'd like to be alone now, please."

"Of course." She got to her feet and kissed my forehead. Without a word, she let herself out. I laid down on the couch, curling into myself.

Damon sat down on the edge of the coffee table and watched me. He didn't say anything.

"Do you know how long I've been in Mystic Falls?" I asked him after few minutes of silence.

"A while."

"Six months. Exactly six months." My vision blurred. "My mom left me in Mystic Falls so she could bring dad back. But she couldn't."

"Maybe," Damon said in a soft voice. "She didn't find him."

"Or maybe he didn't want to come back. She tried to convince me that he was dead, Damon. I'm sure she met him and he just...told her to fuck off."

"Does that sound like your father?"

I shook my head, tears spilling over and soaking the cushions. "No, it doesn't." I gasped for air. "But I don't know what he sounds like anymore. I can't remember his voice. My own father and I can't even remember his voice. And if it weren't for the photos, I'd probably forget his face too."

"Thank God for Kodak, then."

"Dad has been gone for over a year. Do you know what that means?"

Damon frowned and wiped the tears from my cheeks. I dropped a kiss on his palm absent-mindedly. "It means he'd been alive six months prior to his sighting. Why would he make us suffer like that? Why would he make us think he was dead?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and worked on calming myself. Damon picked me up effortlessly and took me to bed. He crawled in and held me closer. I sniffed and wiped at my face with the sleeves of his shirt. His expensive shirt.

I thought of the first time I met Damon, at the Grille. Fresh from New York, disliking the small town and then he walked in, cocksure and swaggering as if he owned the world. I was certain he'd been the most beautiful man I've ever seen. And then he was everywhere. At school, in my house, in_ my_ room. Damon had somehow managed to weave his existence into mine and when I thought about life, I couldn't imagine one without him.

I didn't want to imagine.

I tilted my head and gazed into his eyes of mesmerizing blue.

"What are you thinking about?" he wanted to know.

_That I'm positively falling for you. Falling for you hard._

It scared me to death. Loving Damon. Loving a vampire. I've seen what it did to him. What he became because of the passion that consumed him. I didn't want that for me. I didn't want to be so broken that it threw me off the rails.

But honestly, what I was utterly terrified of, was rejection. I was afraid that when I put myself out there, he'd push me away and there was no coming back from that. Besides, this thing we had going, this weird, _needy_ relationship, was at its start. Perhaps there was magic in New York and once we get back to Mystic Falls things will return to their regularly schedule snark and sarcastic barbs. I didn't want to risk it.

"I think I'm selfish," I said softly, avoiding his gaze.

"How so?"

"I want to have everything. This normal life, here in Staten Island where my biggest worry is whether I'd get back home in time to catch the latest episode of _Breaking Bad_. But I also want to have my life in Mystic Falls. I want to forget about all things supernatural and yet remember, because the knowledge of their existence makes me scared and makes me feel more secure and in control. I want to fight along side you yet not get caught up in it and miss experiencing all the ordinary teenage drama."

I propped my head on my palm and faced the one constant solid person I've had since my life spiraled out control. "I want my mother to be alive and and yet, I want to live with her, even though she practically sacrificed herself for me. I want everything and it makes me sick. I'm a walking, living, breathing contradiction."

Damon had a thoughtful expression on his face. I waited and watched him go through several emotions before he said, "That's normal, Shortie. It's a classic case of the grass is greener on the other side syndrome. It's also what makes you human. Selfishness is in the core of all of us and when you think about it, a lot of other emotions stem from being selfish. You don't want to be alone, so you seek out other companions. You love someone..." My heart skipped a beat and swallowed hard. "When you love someone, they're a part of you. They're yours. They_ belong_ to you and you fight for them, partly because of the thought of losing them fucks you up six ways to Sunday but mostly because it's yours and you want them."

Hesitantly, I reached for his hand and intertwined our fingers.

Damon was staring at our hand, but not seeing it. "Loneliness, love, lust, possessiveness, sympathy...they are all simply other forms of selfishness." He brought our clasped hands to his lips and kissed my fingers. "And it's okay to be selfish once in a while. After all, I wouldn't have gotten to be this devilishly handsome eternal stud if I wasn't selfish."

I laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Thank you."

Damon frowned, confused. "For what?"

"For being selfishness enough to be here and tell me it's okay to feel this way."

He grinned, the cheeky one I was accustomed to. "My _pleasure. _But you'll repay. Acceptable currency is ...orgasms."

I laughed out loud, punching him in the chest and snuggled closer to him. "You gotta invest, Mr. Salvatore. Until then, it's just you and your hand."

* * *

**A/N: So what do you think? This is was a little fluffy/angsty chapter. Perfectly good reason why Damon seemed out character. Totally on purpose. I wanted Charlie to see another side of him, a side only she's able to bring out in him. Also, I'd like to hear your thoughts on their relationship. Is it moving too fast? The last thing I want is to make it unbelievable in anyway. Piperson9708's review made me think. Am I rushing this? Coz I honestly don't think so. Feedback babes.**

** And Charlie. I never actually asked any of the readers what your thoughts are. I try hard to make her as realistic as possible. If she, in your opinion a three dimensional character and if not, suggestions on how to get her to grow as a characters.**

**As always, big KISSES to all of you who read and reviewed, favorited and followed this story. You guys are my inspiration. So type away at the square box down below. It gives Klaus aneurysm.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: I don't own TVD. They belong to The CW and L.J Smith. I own my OCs.**

* * *

_**Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened- Dr Seuss**_

In movies, cheerleaders and popular girls are always portrayed as either ditzs, bitches and evil manipulators. The stereotype is so hardwired in everyone's brains, even normal girls, off-screen, convinced themselves that being a ditz, bitch or an evil manipulator is expected from them.

Elena, Caroline and Bonnie were cheerleaders, and none of them fit the stereotype. None, well, except Caroline. Just a little bit. In the sense that she's perky, blond and a wee bit bitchy. But the point is moot because she's a vampire now.

So yeah, cheerleaders or the IT girls. While I was away in New York, shacking up with one Salvatore brother, a power struggle had raged in Mystic High. I was gone for three days and suddenly The Supernatural Trio had been replaced by The Unholy Trinity at the top of the food-chain. And my friends had a lot on their plate which was why they weren't fighting back. At least Elena and Bonnie weren't. Caroline was bidding her time. Stefan had her in a vice grip, lest she sinks her fangs into Slutty Sophie's throat just for kicks.

What does Slutty Sophie and her two equally slutty bitches have anything to do with me? The answer is a boy.

Isn't it always a boy. One named Mick Holloway. AKA Mr. Cool And Withdraw. An ex-boyfriend of Slutty Sophie. An ex-boyfriend she wasn't over. And apparently I was in the way. So she was out to get me.

Oh _joy_.

"Slut." And then Slutty Sophie flicked her blond hair before sashying away, making a point of bumping her shoulder against mine roughly and sending my books flying. Her two bitches sneered, high-fived and chased after her. I stood there, silently laughing at myself. I had to deal with this as well as vampires. My life was one hot mess.

As I crouched down to retrieve my books, another pair of hands joined mine. It was Mick, wearing an apologetic smile. I accepted his help.

"Sorry about that." He cupped the back of his neck. One of his nervous gestures. We've only hung out a couple times since I got back and I could already read his every emotion. Mick was one of those few people who wore their hearts on their sleeves. Like Caroline. A polar opposite of Damon.

Damon. Instantly, I felt like a slut. I was in a secret relationship with Damon, going behind everyone's back and leading Mick on who pretty much made his intentions clear as soon as I got back and just wouldn't take no for an answer. Maybe Slutty Sophie was onto something.

"I could say it's okay, but then I'd be lying," I told him frankly. "Besides, it's not like this is the first time I had my rep tainted by the Queen Bee-atch. Really, Slu- Sophie..." I corrected myself. "Sophie is comparatively tame compared to Mercie from my old school."

Mick didn't buy it. "Still, she had no right to do that. We were over. For a _long_ time."

Hint. Hint.

I started walking to History class. "I gotta ask though, how did you manage to date her to begin with. Not that I'm implying that you aren't a catch because you totally are.." I grimaced at my choice of words but prowled through. "What I mean to say is, how in the name of all things Holy did you manage to not punch her face in?"

He let out a bark of laughter, it was open and sincere and infectious. Slutty Sophie was glaring daggers at me from a few feet away, promising me more tortures were headed my way.

Bring. It. _On_.

"Well, for starters, we didn't talk much," he admitted with a straight face.

I slapped his arm in mock outrage. "Mick Holloway, you're shameless."

"I'm also honest. And totally single." We stopped outside Alaric's classroom. I waved to him and he smiled back. "And totally into you."

I was rendered speechless. A feat near damn impossible. But Mick knew how to douse out the fiery sass in me and make me feel like a hopeless girl with a huge crush. He was smiling that transformative smile and staring down at me and I felt like such a bitch.

"Mick...I can't," I told him, avoiding his gaze. "You're a nice guy, an _amazing_ guy I'd kill to have under other circumstances. But I can't."

He reached out and cupped my elbow, rubbing his thumb against my skin. Elena and Stefan both gave me strange looks as they walked by us and into the class.

"Are you seeing someone?" he wanted to know.

_YES. _"No."

"Do you not like me?"

"Boy, don't be stupid." I glanced at his face. He seemed thoughtful. "I like you, Mick. A lot. You're a special person. So special in fact that you give total randoms your car keys without a second thought. Is that how you pick up girls? Were you busting your game on me?"

Mick flushed red, eyes twinkling. I let out a sigh, glad to have deflected his questions.

"Nah. I-I don't have game."

"So that was out of kindness."

"You can say that."

"So I was basically a charity case, is what you were saying?"

"Alright! So I was busting a move, in hopes of getting a little somethin'-somethin outta of it. But I think I'll have to up the ante from here on out."

_There he goes again,_ I thought. Before I could open my mouth, the warning bell rang and Alaric made a show off taping his invisible watch.

Mick pushed himself off the wall and sent me a smirk. "I'll catch you later, Charlie." I watched him walk away, grudgingly enjoying the view of his washed-out jeans, Doc Martins and snug white tee. Yeah, I was a fool for letting him go. When I spun on my heels and entered the class, hushed whispers and narrow eyes greeted me. Holding my head high, I took my seat right behind Stefan and next to Bonnie. Elena sat right in front Bonnie and kept me sending me knowing smiles.

Apparently she had forgiving me for keeping her hanging for three days and crawling back home in the middle of the night. Hugs were shared and eyes got moist as she told me how worried she had been and that next time I pulled a stunt like that she would stake me herself.

Ten minutes into Alaric's lecture, my phone buzzed against my thigh, signaling an incoming message. Slouching out of sight and using Stefan's bigger built as a shield, I opened it. I couldn't help the goofy grin on my face.

**_Going thru your I-pod. Shit u got is older than God?_**

I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing.

_Says you, _I replied to Damon's message.

_**Says Parliament. And B-52. And Sinatra**._

_Sinatra is classic. And my parents loved the other two. Grew up with it._

**_At least u got gr8 taste. Unlike most of this generation._**

_That's me. A whole lotta awesome. _

I paused for a moment, fingers hovering over the letters. Should I or shouldn't I? Oh to hell with it. _Can't wait to see you 3_

My heart thumped, waiting for the small buzz. Dreading it. Stupid, stupid girl. I mentally groaned, knowing I've ruined ever-

**_Been counting the minutes since morning! Same time and place?_**

A rush of deep breath escaped my lips and my racing heart went back to it's slow and steady tempo. This was good, perfect even. Which was a worry in and of itself. Since when did things go perfectly in this town?

Fighting off the smile I typed back: _C ya later then!_

When I looked up, Bonnie, Elena and Stefan were watching me with interest, small smirks playing on their lips.

Oh boy.

* * *

"So you and Mick huh?" Elena looped her arm through mine while Bonnie took the other, effectively boxing me in. I struggled a little but they held on strong. There was no escaping this.

Sighing, I dropped my head. "There's no Mick and me."

"It's not what I've been hearing," Bonnie replied.

"Or been seeing," Elena added.

"They're rumors," I explained to the girls as we marched through the hallways. "Slutty Sophie made them up."

"So you're saying that my eyes have decievd me and that it wasn't you he was walking with in the parking lot."

"And the cafeteria."

"And outside the classroom."

"We are just friends, guys. Really." We walked to the bleachers were we usually eat our lunch, away from the crowded cafeteria.

Bonnie chuckled and sat down, taking out her red apple and biting into off. "Isn't how it always starts. Friendship. And next thing you know, you're skipping down the aisle, a ring around your finger and name changed to Charlie Holloway."

Elena titled her head to the sky, soaking in sunlight with her eyes shut. "I call dips for picking out the braidsmaid dresses. And of course, I'll be godmother of your first born."

I gaped between the two. They were smiling, literally glowing with happiness. It's as if they have had a complete personality change.

"Why are the two of you channeling your inner Caroline?"I asked them, bewildered. "It's seriously creepy. And I hate to burst your bubble but nothing, and I mean _absolutely_ nothing is going on between Mick and I. He just lend me his car for my trip to New York and we've been friends ever since."

Bonnie cocked her head to side, studying me."So why do you look like cupid's latest victim?''

_Shit._

"You've stared at nothing, smiling to yourself for no apparent reason _and_ you've been singing," Elena informed me.

_Shit_.

I schooled my features to stay blank. I crossed my legs and said with an air of nonchalance, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh no you don't!" Elena scooted closer and I wondered whether she didn't have some stupid supernatural crisis to avert instead of grilling me for information. "You've been singing silly love songs."

Bonnie made a noise of disbelief. "That's number four on my top ten things I'd never see Charlie Sanders do." She nodded her head at my glare. "Singing love songs. Which ones did she sing?"  
"Silly love songs," Elena replied.

"It's Paul Friggin McCartney!" I yelled at them in exasperation. "It's a classic! I don't have to be love sick to listen to it. I've listened to it for forever." I looked them in the eye. "Legends have it that I came out my mother's womb performing it."

They exchanged side-eyes and turned back to me. "What we want to say is that," Elena draped an arm over my shoulders. "We're just glad you're happy."

I blinked, thrown off-guard. "Uh...thanks."

"He must be special," Bonnie stated.

Oh, special, he is. "Yeah. But just so we're clear, it's not Mick."

"So who's he?"

"Some guy I met in New York."

Bonnie nudged me with her foot. "Does Mystery Man have a name?"

_Damon._ "Kyle," I lied smoothly. "Kyle Jones."

What they didn't know was that, Kyle Jones was actually my ex, a two timing jackass that ruined the name Kyle for me. Just hearing it would want to make me shoot at something. But at least he served a purpose here.

For a few seconds, I fantasized about telling them the truth about Damon. It ended in a bloodbath. Yep, it would be ugly and awkward. I guess it was a smart move to keep it low, especially with everything that's been going on in Mystic Falls. Besides, I never understood the need for everyone to display their affection to the entire world. It made me cringe when I saw couples overly top PDA, even couples as nauseatingly cute as Elena and Stefan.

My relationship with Damon was mine. Not anyone else's business and people had the annoying tendency to throw in their two cents, unasked. Elena would probably try to talk me out of it, Caroline would slap my head off and Bonnie silently judge while they sent Stefan my way with his sage and imploring eyes. And let's not even begin with Jenna.

Life is much easier this way. But it didn't lessen the guilt at all.

"What's he like?"

Sighing, I proceeded with my charade, while in my inner theater I recalled all the moments with a certain dark haired vampire.

* * *

It's been almost a week since Damon and I exchanged snappy words and sarcastic quips. Nowadays, we exchanged hot kisses and touches. To be honest, the only thing we did when we got the rare chance to be completely alone is make out. And I'm not talking about the sweet ones where we declared undying devotions and complimented one another.

Nah. We did the hot and heavy stuff that left me burning with desire and panting like a fricking dog in the heat. Which is awesome because the man has had over a century of practice.

"You drive me crazy," he whispered in my ears, his breath -cold and delicious- sending shivers up and down my spine. He then nibbled on my lobe and I snaked my hand under his shirt, tracing his abs.

So we had a wild, physical relationship with barely any communication. I'm not complaining, at all. Talking usually led to confrontations and I wasn't ready for that. Damon and I were as different as two people could get. I wasn't blinded to his flaws. They were glaringly obvious.

Damon had his own set of rules he followed and they all tended to end in either murder or deformity. He was selfish, slightly psychotic, emotionally unhinged and manipulated people. I knew all of this and despite it, I cared for him deeply. If that makes me stupid, so be it.

Talking about it would just bring it out to the surface and I feared I wouldn't be able to continue kissing him like my life depended on it.

Suddenly, he stopped peppering my neck with kisses and leaned back on the reclined seat of his Porsche. "Everything alright there, Shortie?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

He ran a long finger down my cheek, studying the motion. "You seem a little out of it."

I was not ready to talk about it. So I chuckled, "Damon, I'm straddling you and kissing you, inside your tiny car in the middle of the woods. And in case you're wondering, yes it is as uncomfortable as it sounds."

"Now I'm positively sure there's something up." He gave me a cheeky grin. "Is it that time of the month? Are you pms-ing on me? Because that's kinda hot."

"You're hot," I shot back and captured his lower lip with mine and tugged. "So can we please go back to the previous scheduled make-out session."

"Any other day and I'd more than gladly continued but," He lightly pushed my shoulders. I huffed in annoyance and tried to get back to the passenger seat but he held onto me. "Stay. I just wanna talk."  
"Are you okay? Because forgoing screwing around for talking is not typical Damon behaviour."

A grin played on his lips. "Is that what we're doing here? Screwing around?"

The color drained from my face. Apparently The Talk would happen sooner than I thought. Running a hand through my hair, I said, "I don't know what we're doing but I like it."

"I like it too." He nuzzled my neck and stroked my bare arms. "I like it alot."

"So that's it. I don't see any reason for us to talk about it."

Damon caught my eye and held it. I didn't back down. I couldn't afford to back down. If we had a heart-to-heart, I was sure I'd have to tell him that I'd have already fallen for him, probably scaring the shit out of him and he'd be forced to drop me like a bad habit. Damon was nowhere near over Katherine. A hundred and forty years of obsession doesn't go away over-night. And certainly not when a clone of said obsession was always in his sight. I was no fool. I could see the way his eyes softened whenever Elena walked into the room. It was natural. Instinctive. Impossible for him to hide. But just because I understood it didn't mean I liked it and so I was keeping things to myself until that soft-eyed quality was directed at me.

I think Damon noticed my apprehension to the topic and let it go. He cupped my cheeks in a burst of rare tenderness and gave me a searing kiss. A loud beeping forced us apart. Reluctantly I rummaged through my purse and checked the message. I couldn't help the gleeful squeal.

"Justin Beiber is in town?" Damon guessed. Rolling my eyes, I clambered to the passenger seat, ignoring his protest.

"We gotta get back," I told him.

"Is he really here?"

"No you doofus. But some friends of mine are."

Damon eyed the I-phone, probably deciding if it was wise to wrestle me out of it. He started the car instead. "Is it the line-backer bitch of yours."

Just like that, he was back to the dick we all knew and loved. My hackles rose. "I still haven't forgiven you for breaking his hand, you know."  
"Get over it, Shortie," he replied with indifference, backing the Porsche out the woods and back to the highway. "It happened a life-time ago."  
"Still," I argued with a bite in my words. "And you don't get to call him a bitch or any other douche-baggery words. He's my best friend, Damon. You gotta learn to respect that."

A tic worked in his jaw. "Just keep him on a tighter leash this time around and no one will get hurt."  
This is the reason why I wasn't crazy about the communication between us or the lack of it. We always managed to piss each other off.

"Drop me off at the Grille," I mumbled and turned to stare out the window, every few minutes rereading the message and biting my lower lip to keep from breaking into a goofy grin. The ride was mercifully short thanks to Damon's insane driving. The silence was stifling and uncomfortable but I soldiered through it. He needs to realize that I wasn't a pushover. That he can't use me the way he wanted to without consequences. I wasn't going to be another Caroline.

My heart clenched tightly at the thought of the bubbly blonde. I couldn't help but glance at the man beside me. I've heard the story, not fully but the gist of it that I managed to decipher from Elena and the cloud of vagueness she enshrouded it in. It's easy and hard to picture the cruelty in Damon. Because I know he's capable of it yet, I just don't want to believe he would do that to her.

"Take a picture, babe. I've got mad photogenic features."

Blushing, I averted my gaze back to the window and noticed that we were parked across The Grille.

I grabbed my purse and opened the door. "Thanks for the ride. I'll call you."

He held my hand and pulled me forcefully back in. My face was inches away from his. "Eager to leave, aren't you." His eyes skimmed over my face with intensity, making me feel self-conscious. "If I was a lesser man, I'd be offended. Jealous even." I took in a shuddering breath. "But I'm Damon Salvatore. I've enough faith in my uh...abilities to know you'll come back for more in the next" He made a show of calculating. "Twenty-four hours."

I smiled. We were in the clear. "You're awfully full of yourself."

A deep kiss. And then, "Keep your window open tonight."

I got out and waved at him before crossing the street. Right outside the Grille sat a familiar 67 Chevy Impala in pristine condition. I quickened my pace and there they were by the bar, looking exactly like the last time I've seen them. I snuck behind them, tapped their shoulders and stood back, waiting for them to turn around.

"Well, long time no see," Dean Winchester said with a heart-warming smile.

Sam, his younger but taller brother enveloped me in a bear hug. "It's so good to see you, Charlie."

It was good to see them too.

* * *

**A/N: OH MY GOD! It's been a long while hasn't it. I'm super sorry. Just to let you know, I haven't abandoned this babe. And I won't. It's just that, life's been hectic lately. Between lectures assignments, physiotherapy and my part-time job, I can barely think, let alone write. But I'll try harder. I promise.**

**This was more of a filler chapter. To kinda get myself into the mood, explore the relationship between Damon and Charlie which is very, very fragile and yes...to introduce the long awaited Winchester brothers! FINALLY! PHEWW! I think I've mentioned at the start of the story that I was planning to include them and been referring to them throughout the chapters. And here they all.**

**Also, I expect almost everyone to know about the Winchester brothers. If you're of the few who've been living under a rock, they are the main protagonists of the best. ...SUPERNATURAL. Check it out.**

**That said, I wanna thank all of you for your patience and encouragement. You are my inspirations.**

**Read and review as always. They make me want to write.**

**Remember, it takes hours to write, but only a few seconds to comment.**

**xoxoxoxoxoxo**


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: I neither own TVD or Supernatural. They both belong to CW. Charlie is mine though**

* * *

**_Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend-Albert Camus_**

The first memory of the brothers is my seventh birthday. Dad came home, Dean and Sam in tow. I was in the kitchen, doing homework when he introduced them. Instantly I knew who was the introvert and the extrovert. Sam smiled shyly and kept his distance. Dean on the other hand was boisterous, raiding the fridge, commenting on my music collections and flipping channels on the TV as if he owned the place.

I remember feeling a small prick of jealousy when they shared inside jokes and Dean made sure Sammy-boy had had enough to eat or whether he was tired. I wanted a brother too. A brother as cool and strong and caring as Dean. And that's what I wished for as I blew out the candles. You should have seen my surprise when Dean took me under his wing and relentlessly teased as if I was the younger sister he never had.

To this day, I held on to that small part of my faith. The one where the big guy in the sky answered the wish of a small, lonely seven year old girl.

" Can I get you anything else?" Matt asked us, eyeing the brothers a little suspiciously.

Dean cleared his throat. "Do you serve pie here?"

Sam and I rolled our eyes simultaneously and shared a knowing smile.

"No, sorry man. We don't."

Dean grumbled under his breath. I turned to Matt. "Don't mind him. He gets grumpy when he doesn't get his daily dose of sugar. Uh guys, this my friend from school, Matt. Matt, meet Dean and Sam Winchester, family friends."

Matt visibly relaxed and shook hands with the boys. "Winchester huh? Like the gun?"

Dean beamed. "Exactly like 'em guns."

"What would you like to eat?"

Sam read out his order of chicken wings and beer, I ordered chilly fries and soda and Dean had a full plate of fries and two cheeseburgers and a Bud. Matt excused himself with a promise to be back in five. I sunk into deep cushions of the booth and watched them, cataloging their every feature.

Dean with his charming smile, vaguely reminded me very much of Damon's except with Dean, it was more boyish and charming than predatory. Green eyes and dirty blond cropped hair. And ego the size of Mount Kilimanjaro. And then you have Sam, with his soulful doe-eyes and shaggy brown hair, making him seem like a giant puppy you couldn't help but want to adopt. Both good-looking and funny.

"You guys didn't change much," I admitted.

"Yeah," Dean retorted. "You grew shorter, if that's possible. Or maybe it's because you've been standing next to this giant here. He can give anyone a complex."

Sam had long ago resigned to being mocked for his height. "Jerk," he said to his brother.

"Bitch."

I couldn't help but fall into our little pattern. "Slut," I aimed at Dean. Sam and I slapped palms and Dean shook his head at the injustice of it all.

Yep, same old same.

"I was surprised when I got your call," Sam told me, turning serious. "Everything okay?"

The high I've been riding the past few days came crashing down. Everything hit me all over again, like a freaking tidal wave, making me flinch. Mom is dead, Dad's probably abandoned me. Life is shit.

"I've been trying to get to your father," I spoke with a soft voice. "He told me to call you."

The brothers exchanged glances and their shoulders slumped. "Dad, uh, he died about a year ago."

A strange noise half-way between a whimper and a sob fell out of my mouth as I stared at the two. "No." I closed my eyes and cradled my head, the cold tentacles of despair sinking into my heart. It's as if the floor has been ripped from under me and I was free-falling.

"What happened?" I croaked out, fighting the tears.

It was Sam who answered with a voice matching mine. "He...he died on the job."

The Job. Vague much. The Job was hunting. He died a supernatural death. It seemed everyone I know were dying supernatural deaths.

Raising my head, I said, "I thought he was a mechanic?" I wonder what lie they would spin. If you've managed to keep this aspect of your live secret for so long, you must have mad lying skills. One that I could benefit from.

Dean spoke. "Yeah. It was...uh, a car fell on him."

I snorted. Dean even managed to look offended. "Seriously," I said between laughs. "A car fell on him? That's the best you could come up with?"

Sam shifted in his seat and caught Dean's face who was now putting on the outrage act.

"I know about the supernatural," I told them. "I know about vampires and witches and hunting. I know your dad, and mine and mom and Angela Giovinazzo and Vinnie Morino and Sal are all hunters."

We sat in silence. If Matt noticed the palpable tension, he did a splendid job ignoring it. No one touched the food. Sam blew out a deep breath and Dean dragged a hand over his stubble.

"Surprise?" he said with a small smile.

"Who told you about it?" Sam wanted to know.

"I figured it out on my own." And then I told them everything. From the moment I set a foot on Mystic Falls to my trip to New York. They kept quiet, listening and keeping their faces in check. I prowled through the part of mom's death with a catch in my throat. I didn't mention Damon, Stefan and Elena by name. That wasn't my secret to tell. Sam reached over the table and clasped his bigger hand around mine, squeezing it and wordlessly letting me know that he understood, sympathized. Dean seemed uncomfortable. He never was big on emotions or confrontations.

"I was hoping Uncle John knew where dad is," I mumbled. "But I guess that's moot now."

"Are you planning on staying here?" Dean asked. "In this messed up town. You know, we've heard rumors about it being a paranormal hotspot. I never believed it cause I've seen otherworldly shit go down all over the damn country."

"It's my home now. And it's just till I graduate high school."

"And what's your post graduation plans?"

I shrugged. "I can't be bothered to think about it. There's just so much going on. I'll have to find my dad first. At least, to demand answers."

"And if you don't like what he gives you?" Sam pointed out. He let go my hand and took a swing of his drink. "Maybe he has a good reason."

"I don't care," I muttered, petulantly.

Dean spoke with his mouth full, both cheeks puffed out to the extremes. "I vote you go to college and put this entire shit behind you."

Sam threw him a dirty look. "No offense Dean, but I don't think you're the right person to play the role of life coach right now. You couldn't get outta high school fast enough."

The older Winchester threw back a dirtier look. "Ah, College-boy, think you so smart." He chewed furiously and then carried on. "You're what? Fourteen?"

"Seventeen," I corrected him testily, ripping apart my chili fries.

He didn't seem to hear me. "Whatever. You're short. You look like you've just crawled outta the sandbox and wandered out to the streets." He swallowed and smacked his lips together. "My point is this, the world is one fucked up place without the crazy shit that goes bump in the night. You should be worried about pedophiles trynna feel you up and not monsters."

Silently, I bristled and crossed my arms tightly across my chest. Sam noticed and nudged his brother in warning. As always, Dean was oblivious and rather forcefully shoved Sam back with his shoulder. For five long seconds, they glared at each other while I glared at them.

"So Capiche?"

I couldn't hold it in me any longer. "No. Not capiche you dickhead!"

"Hey! Name calling!" Dean bellowed with righteous indignation as he pointed a fry at me. Dean was always righteous. And indignant. "Totally uncalled for. And to think, I was dispensing my Yoda wisdom to you."

Sam snorted. "That's coming from the guy who thought MySpace is a porn website."

My eyebrows rose quizzically and I stored that little piece of information away for later investigation. The only way to get anything through Dean's head was to draw out his experiences and use it against him. I know it's weird, and uncharacteristic of me to seek someone's approval when I usually just go ahead and do it, damn the consequences, but...this was Dean and Sam. My family. My brothers.

"Dean," I began. "If your father was alive...and went missing, wouldn't you drop everything to look for him?"

He shifted uncomfortable and stubbornly avoided my gaze so I turned it to Sam who, from experience, was easier to crack. "Sam?"

As I predicted, Sam hung his head. "Yeah." His voice was sad and small. "I-I would. In a heartbeat." There was a wistfulness in his expression. One that Dean was wearing too.

"But we were born into this lifestyle, Charlie," Sam continued. "We know what to look out for. How to protect each other. It's not easy. It's not something anyone should go through willingly."

"But I don't want to go through it!" I yelled in exasperation. Why can't they understand? "I just want to find my dad!"

"What if he doesn't want to be found?" Dean countered. "Or what if he's dead?"

"Then I need to see his grave for myself to move on." My voice wavered slightly, not convincing any of us.

"Tell you what," Sam leaned forward and held my eyes. "I promise you. We'll keep our eyes and ears out for your father. If we hear so much as a rumor, I'll call you and let you know."

"Comprise," Dean muttered through another mouthful. "I like that."

"Shut it, slut!" I snapped. "And chew with your mouth closed!" To Sam, "Thanks, Sammie. I'm glad I've got your vote. And just so you know, Angela- you remember her right? She said he was last seen in Oregon."

He nodded. "Is she still uh...a little loopy up there? Every time we came over, she's give me this rakish smile..." He shuddered visibly and laughed. "At least, I think it was supposed to be rakish but it came acro-"

"Oregon you say," Dean interrupted his brother.

"Yeah." I ran through my curls and pushed away the plate in front of me. "Why?"

"It's a base for hunters. Salem, Oregon, to be exact." He rolled his eyes. "I don't have to explain the significance of that. Pretty obvious if you ask me."

Sam carried on, excitedly, eyes shining, voice a note higher. He was in his element. I wondered if I looked this crazed when I figured something out. Probably. " There's a big agency there and hunters usually stop by to pick up cases or just chatter."

"Do you know where this agency is exactly located?" I was buzzing with the excitement too. I knew calling them was a good idea! Now, I could solely focus on finding Dad.

Dean opened his wallet and slid a business card across the table. I picked it up. White with loopy, cursive print. Generic.

_Dance Investigations_.

"Weird name?" I commented.

"The owner of the agency, Chuck Dance, he's a good friend of ours. Just tell him you're family and he'll help you."

_Family. _I glanced at Dean who said those words and my heart swelled. So I wasn't the only one who considered them family. That was good to know. Swallowing the fist sized lump lodged in my throat, I sent them a grin and kicked Dean under the table when he hogged my food.

"So Sam," I began, trying to distract myself from turning into an emotional mess. "Tell me about your adventurous? And what was that about MySpace being a porn website?"

Sam let out a hoot of laughter, throwing his head back and eyes crinkling. "Well, we were working a case and Dean being the natural whore he is, started flirting with this receptionist and ..."

Propping my chin on my open palm, I got comfortable and let the worries drop as they boys dove into their tales with vigor and contagious enthusiasm.

* * *

_Death is the final chapter in life. We all know about it, fear it and some even welcome it. We cry when our old grandparents pass away, a few of us devastated when the ones near and dear to us die. But what makes death that more tragic is sacrifice._

_The sacrifice of parents for their children. It doesn't matter what kind of parents they were, good or bad, hands-on or hands-off, close or distant. The moment they take the bullet for you, the game is over. They won and you're left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart._

_John Winchester cut a deal with the devil, literally, to keep Dean alive. My mother tapped into evil as well, aware of the consequences of channeling so much dark magic all at once. They both did what they had to do._

_"We owe it to them," Sam had told me tonight, standing in front of Mom's grave. "To keep living and fighting." He had glanced at his brother's tense figure beside him and added, almost as an after-thought. "It's what they would have wanted us to do."_

_Would Mom want me to chase after demons and vampires? Hell. To. The. No! She has gone as far as block my memory to keep me out of the shit-hole I managed to fall into. She wouldn't want me to look after Dad either. But I would. Hell to the yes I would. It was the only thing that made waking up in the morning worthwhile. The idea that Dad was just a few miles away. It was my beacon of hope. I wasn't going to part with it so soon._

I slap my diary shut, feeling a little better now that have quieted the racket in my mind. Jenna was right. Writing is cathartic. I'm not sure about the whole writing in the cemetery and being melancholic thing is my scene but Dean and Sam were here, paying their respect and dues to Mom who, for the most parts of their lives, was as much of a mother to them as she was to me. Dean had laid down a bouquet of fresh flowers and the boys had stood there for a very long time now.

Seeing them again after almost a year was like going for a vacation and forgetting myself in the bliss of blue oceans and golden sunlight. We laughed, we joked, we watched_ Battleship_ in the theater. Dean shamelessly flirted with the girl behind the ticket counter. Sam fought him for the popcorn. I relentlessly dissected the movie and it's absurdities. We drove around aimlessly in the Impala, singing along to AC/DC over and over while Sam sunk in his seat, grinding his teeth in exasperation.

I had fun. Like never before. Like never again. And when the sun went down and the sky turned dark, the boys sobered up and asked me were Mom was buried. I brought them here. That was almost a half an hour ago. It was the first time I've been back since the funeral, and the sight of my mother's name on a cold, grey tomb stone set off tremors in my heart. Dean and Sam bowed their heads, I started at the graves of the Morrison family. Reunited at last.

How long will it be until my name's up, right there beside them?

Probably sooner than later, what with my lifestyle and all.

"Did you break anything?" Dean's gruff voice resonated in the quiet night. Sam and I turned to him. "Excuse me?"

He awkwardly scratched his scalp. "When Dad...uh, died... for weeks, I didn't talk about him. I'd pretend I was alright when Sammy or Bobby asked me. I focused all of my energy on restoring the Impala." He was silent for a while. "And then I snapped! Just like that. As if someone had flipped a switch and all the emotions I've been bottling inside me came rushing out. I took a crowbar to the Impala and destroyed the hood of the trunk. I went..._mad_. But it somehow helped me deal with the situation." A side-long glance my way. "So break something. It's fun and therapeutic."

The corners of mouth tugged upwards in a small smirk. Dean cleared his throat loudly and I suspected he was blinking away tears. Silently, we trudged away, each lost in their own heads. Once inside the Impala, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, the homely scent of leather, sweat and the boys' aftershave bombarding me with endless stream of broken fragments of moments in this very same car, all under happier occasions. Birthdays, reunions, Thanksgivings and Christmases. And now here we are, three broken and tortured individuals.

"How do you guys fall asleep?" I mused out loud. Silence greeted me. Oh well.

"We just do," Sam mumbled. Opening my eyes, I caught Dean's green ones in the rear-view mirror. They were blank, dry and jaded. Silently I wonder how much more I have to suffer before that look reflect back to me. A year? Two?

"Right or left?"

Dean's voice brought me out of my reverie. I glanced out the window. We've reached the town square. "Left." Then, "You guys are leaving?"

Sam twisted in his seat to face me. "We've got to get to Cincinnati." He gave me an apologetic smile. "We took a detour for you. It's an urgent case." Hastily he added, "Which is perfectly fine. We'll always take detours if you need us."

"Turn right here," I directed Dean. To Sam. "Thanks, Sam."

"You're welcome."

When we reached my street, I asked Dean to stop the car in front of The Gilberts. The light on the front porch was on. Jenna was up, probably waiting for me.

"You live here," Dean stated. It didn't escape me, the sad tone in his voice as he gazed at the house forlornly. Sam glanced at his brother wearing a very perplexed expression that rivaled mine.

And then in true Dean fashion, his face brightened and he said "Very suburban." He craned his neck left and right, checking out the neighborhood and let out an impressed whistle. "Looks like freaking Wisteria Lane. " Sam and I snorted in sync. "Any hot, desperate housewives around here?"

The front door opened and Jeremy came out, his mop of over-grown hair falling into his eyes.

"Who's the fourth, emo Jonas brother?" Dean wanted to know.

"It's Jeremy Gilbert," I mumbled. I'm aware of what we were doing. Stalling. None of us wanted to open the doors, breaking this timeless sanctuary.

"He the little brother?" Sam asked. Wordlessly, I nodded, a uncomfortable feeling beginning in my stomach. Jeremy existed in a different world than the Winchesters. Jeremy in my new one, the brothers in the old. And in the past few weeks, I've realized that the two have over-lapped and I wanted them to be separate. It made life that much easier. It helped me exercise whatever control I've left in this whirlwind I've lived in.

Dean killed the engine and opened the door, popping the sanctuary bubble. He's always practical like that. They walked me to the front door, Sam's hands buried deep in his pockets, Dean's swinging lazily.

"So, this is it," I started.

Dean clapped once, twice and offered me a smile. "I guess we'll see you around then."

Our customary parting line. Started on my seventh birthday and so, used ever since. We never said goodbye. Partly because we were sure sooner or later they would drop by unexpectedly and mostly because saying goodbye to family sucks.

He pulled me into an awkward side-hug and walked back to his car. I stared after him, recalling the old Dean, loud, a little reckless and the life of a party and comparing him with this new version of him. A young man with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Dean was damaged goods.

Sam was scuffing his boots, looking contemplative.

"What's up, Sammie-boy?"

His head shot up and there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Don't channel your inner Dean. It's not healthy." A pause. "Look, uh...it hasn't been long since your mom died and..." His eyes darted everywhere, searching for something. "I know what you're going through Charlie." He locked his gaze on mine. "And the guilt you're feeling. I know you're feeling it, Charlie," He pressed on upon seeing my face. "You're just better at burying it than me. Trust me when I say I understand. The last thing I did with Dad before he died was fight with him." His voice grew softer. "He practically begged me to stop it." His eyes were moist, imploring, begging. I felt my own well so I reached out and squeezed his arm affectionately.

"I said some pretty harsh words to Mom before she died," I admitted through a tightening throat. "I practically told her that I didn't want her in my life. I could see the pain it caused her but I didn't care 'cause I was so mad!"

"I accused of him of being selfish and not caring about us. About Dean." My gaze flicked to the silent figure inside the car and back to Sam. "He's changed," I told his brother.

"It happens, Charlie. You can't not change when you do what we do."

"Then why don't you stop?"

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "We try. But knowing that there are things out there, killing humans and not doing anything about it, it's just not right."

"Is it redemption or revenge?" I asked bluntly. Sam's a bit taken aback by it.

"Both, I guess." He glanced back at the car. "Besides, my brother needs me. We're all we have left in this world."

There is that familiar pang of jealousy, the one I experienced all those years ago.

Sam let out a sigh. "I better get going."

I gazed up at him, at this wonderful man with the heart of gold and suddenly I was gripped by loneliness. "I'll miss you," I whispered. It's always easier with Sam. He opened his arms and I walked into him.

"I'll miss you too, Charlie. If you ever need me, I'm just a call away. We both are."

We stepped back from each other and he turned on his heels and with a small wave of his hand got inside the car. Dean honked once, waved and tore down the street. My spirit plummeted as soon as they were out of my sight.

Inside the house, Jenna sat at the dinning table that was over-flowing with papers, reading glasses perched on her head while she typed away on her Blackberry.

"You've been outside for almost ten minutes," she stated without preamble. "And I saw those two guys."

I kept silent, not sure where she was going with this. Lately, Jenna's been trying to be the adult in the house. She's just coming across as anally retentive. She gave me an eye, one I suspect she thinks is intimidating but she looks like she has the munchies.

"You're not sleeping with the two of them are you?"

My jaw dropped. I stood there, at the entrance, mouth agape and desperately trying to figure out what could have led her to that conclusion.

Jenna carried on. "Because you looked very chummy with the both of them. Not to mention, you three have been the talk of the entire town."

I brought my jaw up with an audible snap. "Nothing will ever happen between the three of us." That thought was vomit inducing.

"Oh." She placed the Blackberry on the table and propped her chin on her palm. "Are they gay?"

Laughter flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. Jenna smiled, a little unsure.

"Dean," I breathed out, wiping away tears. "Would_ flip_ if he heard that. He's got serious rep as a womanizer, you know." I took another calming breath. "And no. They're not gay. They're brothers."

"Oh." She flushed a little. "So, uh, how do you know them, exactly?"

"Family friends." I didn't want to elaborate, but seeing Jenna try so hard to do right by me, I decided to throw her a bone. "They were headed to Cincinnati to...uh, visit some relatives and decided to drop by," I lied smoothly. I shouldn't be proud. I should be disturbed. "We usually try to make a point to see each other at least once a year."

She nodded in understanding and I watched her face relax as she blew out air. "Phew! I'm relieved. I thought I had to stage an intervention or something. I figured that you've finally started acting out and I got worried."

I chuckled lightly, realizing how fortunate I was to have her. "I'll give you a heads up when it comes to that. I'm wiped so I'm gonna crash, okay."

"Good night." Just as I was about to leave, she added, "Hey, how was my acting as an adult stint?"

Honestly, it sucks. But her face was so hopeful, I couldn't bring myself to rain on her parade so instead, I gave her a smile and two thumbs up before dashing up the stairs.

When I crawled into my bed, after a long bath, my phone buzzed. I picked it up without glancing at the screen.

"Hello."  
"Charlie." It was Dean. I sat up straighter and leaned against the headboard. "What's up Dean?"

His voice was low, barely above a whisper. "Nothing. I-I...just called to check up on you."

My eyebrows rose. "You dropped me off half an hour ago at my door-step, Dean. I'm fine. Now, tell me the real reason you called."

Silence. Then noises. Footsteps on hardwood. Creaking of a door. A barking dog. Dean was outside now.

"Look, Hobbit," he said in exasperation and I laughed at the nickname he christened me with since I was seven. "I don't do chick-flick moments. I shudder at the thought of doing them. You've Samantha for that - who's in the shower now which is the only reason I'm calling you now - but...that doesn't mean that I'm not here for you."

I smiled into the phone even though he couldn't see it. He carried on. "Just because I won't talk about it with you doesn't mean I won't listen. So, you can unload on me. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Great."

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"When did you grow a vagina?"

"Very funny, Hobbit. Hardy har-har. I swear to you, if Sam hears about this, I'll blast your ass across the moon." His voice was light, despite his words. "So, what are you afraid of?"

I settled comfortably and in the next hour, I told Dean about my fears, my hopes, my guilt and everything under the sun. Together we unearthed memories we forgot, parts of me I thought I buried when Mom died. I cried, like seriously, bawled my eyes out and it was cathartic and nice and refreshing. I felt renewed, reborn. Like I could take on the world. When we said good-bye, Dean's voice was tight with emotions and I teased him about growing a second vagina and we hung up hastily when Sam called out for his brother.

I laughed softly to myself and then cried again and I was an emotional wreck. Coming to terms with the end of your innocence and childhood and your old self isn't easy but I was done sitting around doing nothing, being unsure and hesitant every step of the way.

While I was contemplating the complications of my life and how I would tackle them, Damon climbed through my window and smirked when he saw me lying there short-shorts and tank-top.

When our eyes locked, his grin widened, eyes raking my figure. He didn't notice my blotched face, or my red nose or my tear streaked face. In a flash, he had me pinned, attacking my neck with his lips. Involuntarily, I shivered and he took that as a yes.

"Gah! You smell so delicious!" he moaned into the crook of my neck before kissing my jaw then my cheeks and then my lips. I couldn't control my body. I melted into him and kissed him back but he stopped and stared at my face.

"You've been crying," he stated, beautiful face marred with confusion. "Why? What happened?" Damon sat back, taking me with him and cupped my face, holding it delicately as if I was a rare piece of jewellery. "Who did this to you?" he growled, eyes intense and hard.

"No one." When he didn't believe me, I insisted. "I'm fine. Just a little emotional."

"Was it those so called friends of yours?" His voice was tight, bitter.

"No. They actually helped me come to terms with things." I reached out and traced one finger over his perfect, red lips, the small action making my blood thrum. "I think it's just delayed reaction for everything that's been happening. But I'm all better now. I feel better. Lighter. It's true what they say about a good cry."

A hint of a smile dance on his lips and he caught my finger in his mouth, licking it in an erotic way. My heart and eyelids fluttered in perfect rhythm.

"Damon, not to-"

He let go of my finger and face and stretched on my bed. "I know," he simply said. "C'mere."

Facing him, I gave him a quick peck on the lips while he covered our bodies with the duvet.

"You're gonna stay the night?" I asked.

"Do you want me to?"

In a heart beat: "Yes."

His features softened, even his eyes. "Then I'm staying."

I wish I wasn't spent, or sleepy, so that I could relish the way he gazed at me, like I was the last woman on earth. But my eyes drooped and my body relaxed and I drifted away with my face on Damon's chest, where his dead and cold heart lies.

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter in less than a week. YAY me! I promised more updates, I delivered.**

**Also, not alot of canon characters in this chapter. I wanted to focus on the dynamics of Charlie and the brothers. I hope to God i did them justice. I tried my hardest to portray them in character. Let me know if i succeeded. Also, this is not the last you'll see of the Winchesters. Just getting all of the Winchester lovin' from your reviews inspired me to bring them back into the storyline. **

**Also shout out to the following reviewers...you made my day:**

**KK  
Natalia Moreau  
CassiaSilvia  
ILoveYou1978 (You're missing the world. I suggest you start watching it NOW!)  
Violet-amethyst**

**You guys rock my world.**

**AND...TONIGHT...SEASON Premier of the TVD! I CAN't Wait! (I'm so excited I can't even type in either upper or lower case.)**

**And to all of my dedicated readers out there, mucho gracias and I love you for following this story.**

**Remember, it takes effort and time to write but only a few seconds to review.**

**xoxoxoxoxo**


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: Me no own TVD. Me own only OCs.**

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_**A woman is like a tea bag; you never know how strong it is until it's in hot water- Eleanor Roosevelt **_

Damon was screwed. No, seriously he was. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was messy and complicated and he doesn't do messy or complicated. Been there, done that and ain't goin' back.

But he did. Damon Salvatore was in _love._

Yes, it is as bad as it sounds. He was in love and the feeling suffocated him. It fucked up his rhythm and his mind. He was off his game which was why Wolf-boy had played him good. Nearly cost his life and Stefan's. And now his cover was blown, Liz locked up in his cellar, Vampire Barbie reeling from Katherine's manipulative ways and there's the underlying tension between the Happy Couple.

He couldn't help but grin at that.

Finally Stefan St. Perfect wasn't all he cracked up to be. Maybe he should thank the bitch-from-hell AKA Katherine for accelerating the inevitable. Now if he could just manage to worm his way back to Elena's good graces and not do something impulsively stupid – like break little Gilbert's neck – he might have a chance. After all she had complimented him just a few minutes ago.

"_What you did for Caroline's mom…that was the Damon who was my friend."_

At least, she was willingly speaking to him and that's half the battle, right? Okay, but back to the dilemma. He was in love. And the object of his affection… er…obsession?... was worrisome in and of itself.

Elena Gilbert.

Katherine Pierce doppelgänger.

Stefan's on-the-rocks girlfriend.

Charlie's best friend.

Damon winced in the safety of his bedroom. Charlie. Shit. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. She was the one he _should_ be in love with. She's funny, witty, tough as nails and most importantly, totally available. But the heart want what it wants and now it was singing for doe-eyes and straight silky brown hair.

Sighing, Damon threw himself on his bed, picked up his cellphone and checked for messages from Charlie. Nothing. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was pulling away.

From him.

_Oh God _he groaned. Now he sounds just like Saint Stefan.

_But she _is_ slipping away,_ his subconscious – who had been on hiatus for a while now – insisted. Try as he might,Damon couldn't repress it. After nearly three weeks of hot and heavy make-out sessions in her bedroom, in his, in the Porsche, in the woods and even the ladies room at the Grille he was more than ready to rip those clothes off of her and have his way. Everything was going good…at least, that's what he thought.

He noticed the difference though. Occurred right about the time she met with some family friends of hers. Damon was enjoying his self-appointed role as her protector. Maybe he was enjoying too much. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why, but something about the headstrong girl falling apart brought out his possessive streak. She relied on him, needed_ him_ and he liked that. No one has made him feel like that for so long.

But where was that girl now?

Gone, is where she is. Charlie had bounced back to the bad-ass, fierce and controlling girl he met all those months ago. The one he was both intrigued with and detested in an equal amount.

Was he glad that she was back to normal?

Honestly, no. Because that meant his chances of getting away with shit was dwindling like a butter on a Texas summer asphalt. And so where his chances of getting laid.

_You don't deserve it,_ inner Stefan admonished. _You love her best friend, remember?_

So what? It's like anyone knows about their …uh, arrangements. And Charlie seemed fine with them being a secret. Besides, he might not love her but she came pretty close.

Suddenly, Damon sat up when he heard her voice downstairs. Just as he was about to get up, her footsteps were already headed his way. Hope was not lost. She would walk through that door, smile his favorite flirty smile of hers and literally pounce on him. He felt the anticipation bubbling inside him. Taking a unnecessary deep breath, an intoxicating mixture of perfume, blood and Charlie bombarded his senses. He closed his eyes.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5,6,

"We need to talk to Damon!"

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open and he stared openly at her. Dark skinny jeans hugging her figure perfectly, an AC/DC t-shirt and curls piled in a high ponytail, exposing a long, slender neck. His gaze lingered there. So delicate. Inviting. Just looking at it made his mouth water. It took ever ounce of power for him to not sink his fangs in her beautiful caramel skin and lap up her blood. Just a taste. A hit.

Judging by her hard gaze and stance, he knew he wasn't getting anything today. Charlie stood with her arms crossed, her cheeks flushed and lips pursed into a thin line.

She was royally pissed off.

So he did what Damon does best.

"I can think of a dozen of other things I'd rather be doing with you right now." This was of course, followed by the famous lady-killing smirk.

Charlie simply blinked at him once. Apparently, her sense of humor escaped her as well.

"Alright," he conceded with a world-weary sigh and laid back down on his bed. "What do you wanna talk about?" He had an inkling.

"You," was her reply.

"What about me?"

"I distinctively remember asking you to leave Mason Lockwood alone." A beat. "You promised!"

"And I obviously lied," he replied with a bite. "Besides, he was the one who sold us out to the sheriff. Shouldn't you be checking up on me, kissing my boo-boos instead of interrogating me like a freaking con."

It was quick, the softening of her features as she searched his body for visible damage. And then as if he she remembered that she was angry as him, the mask was up in place in three seconds flat.

"I did check up on you," she told him defensively. "Caroline filled me in one everything."

"Then you would know that I almost died today."

Damon was looking for a little bit sympathy. He was left feeling disappointed.

"You deserved it.  
He flashed before her angrily and crowded her personal space, looming. Charlie jumped back, surprise.

"That's harsh of you," he said slowly. "Don't you think so?" He mentally patted his back for not loosing his cool.

She scoffed. "Damon, you've been antagonizing him all week. Even when he sincerely told you he didn't want to have anything with this shit!"

Damon felt a tic in his left eye. Easy boy. "He's a werewolf and I'm – "  
"A vampire!" she shouted, interrupting him. "Exactly. So where do you get off thinking you have any right to treat him the way you did."

Seriously. Damon wagged his head back and forth in disbelief. Was he seriously hearing this. He started pacing and putting a distance between them, lest he let his temper fly. Why was she quick to judge him? The one person he thought was different.

"Sometime, it's like you don't care Damon," she continued. "One minute you're helping save this town and the next, you're intentionally putting everyone in danger." The iciness in her bottle-green eyes melted a little. "You're always trying to prove something to the world. And we get it, trust us, we do. Ten-four! You're bad-ass and we're at your mercy but give it a rest."

Different voices through different times criticizing him relentlessly began to escape their confinements in his mind and simultaneously began to whisper in his ears. He flared his nostrils. "No. You give it a rest," Damon snapped back at her in anger. He stalked towards her but she stood her ground, fearless. "Stop it, Charlie! You and Elena and Stefan. I'm not the good guy. That role is already filled. I'm getting sick and tired of – "

"There's where you're wrong" she interrupted him for the second time. "That mindset. There's no good guy or a villain. No roles to play. No stupid angel and devil analogies. It's all in your head." She stepped closer to him, her eyes searching for something inside him, something deep. Damon wondered how she's react if he kissed her now. The way she looked, strong but vulnerable, cut-throat yet soft made him want to throw her on his bed. And then it hit him. An epiphany. With Charlie, his emotions were always in the extremes. Kill or kiss. Love or hate. Happiness or despair.

She was still talking. "The moment you stayed, fighting along us Damon, that's when you forfeited all rights to be a self-centered dickhead. I know that for over a century you've played by your own rules but that's got to stop. You're part of a community now, your actions will bear consequences and innocent people might get caught in the crossfire."

Sometimes, Damon thought to himself, like this moment for instance, he wondered whatever the hell put him in this predicament. Not only did he have to deal with Stefan McBroody and his Holier-than-thou- Elena and Charlie has now decided to jump on the wagon. He could suffer through Elena's lectures because, in his inner mind theater, he'd picture all the scenarios where he'd break up the Happy Couple. But with this green-eyed fiery goddess, bluffing his way out was not an option. Saying no was also not an option. In fact, it seemed Damon had absolutely _zero_ options whatsoever when it came to her. It was her way or the highway. And that left him feeling bitter.

He chose his next words with the care akin to a soldier threading lightly through a minefield. "It's over now. No one's hurt. Mason's stupid attempt to have us killed backfired and Liz will know no better in three days time."

Charlie cocked her head to the side and studiously stared at him.  
"What?" he asked.

"I'm just trying to figure you out."

A smirk. "Not in this life-time babe."

"Humor. You use humor and sarcasm as a shield."

"What are you now, Dr. Phil?"

"I was worried about you." Her honesty caught him off-guard. He decided against the quip bouncing around his mouth and opted for silence. "As soon as Caroline told me what happened, I went to the Lockwoods." She dropped her gaze, shyly. Damon fought the insane urge to touch her but he didn't. He still wasn't in the clear, yet. "I wanted to tear Mason a new one."

The image of her wrath lashing out on an unsuspecting werewolf was pure comedy to Damon. "Yeah? Did you succeed?"

"Halfway through my venting, he told me about the little stabbing incident." Inwardly, Damon flinched. Outwardly, he was stoic as ever. "You don't remember? No? Right after the barbecue party you managed to convince Jenna to throw? Still not ringing any bells?" The shutters were back on and so was the mask. Cut-Throat Sanders. "Are you retarded, Damon? All he wanted was to be left alone! If you'd have done that, none of this would have happened!"

_This is getting old._

"He's a _were-wolf_." He stressed the word, enunciating every syllable as if he was talking to a slow child. "And I'm a vampire. We've been through this. Vampires and were-wolves don't get along. Never had and never will. Haven't you read that one about the sparkly, brooding vampire, Sunset or something. We're mortal enemies. A were-wolf bite is fatal so forgive me for exercising some caution." He really needed to get drunk just about now.

"But Mason doesn't –"

"Why are you so hung up on Mason?" he exploded. Charlie gasped and flinched, fear glittering her eyes. Damon cursed himself for loosing it. Thank God the house was empty. In a lower voice, "All I've been hearing since you got her is Mason this and Mason that. Do you like the surfer dude or something?"  
Without missing a beat, "Oh yeah, I've got this school girl crush on him. I've been fantasizing about running my fingers through his unruly hair and wash-board abs. Oh Damon, he makes my heart flutter and my lady parts tingle." A pause. "Mason didn't chose this. That's the meaning of a curse. And he certainly didn't come here to pick a fight. He came here to grieve the death of his brother and to take care of his nephew so how about a little sensitivity. And if you can't manage that, show some respect."

Then, spinning on her heels she walked away to the door.

_Don't let her leave,_ inner- Stefan urged and for the first time, Damon didn't resist him.

"You've got to stop that," he told her.

She turned to him. "Excuse me?"

"Assume I'll roll over whenever you ask me to."

_Okay, now you're just coming across as an even bigger dick-head,_ inner-Stefan commented with disgust.

Charlie was silent for a while, staring at the hard wood floor, her mind elsewhere. Damon wished he could take his words back.

"I'm not being a bitch for practice," she told him with honesty. "I'm just trying to make sure we're all safe." She gave him a leveled look. "Did you know Mason grabbed Elena by the neck and threatened to snap it when he felt cornered."

_It's a_ _trap,_ inner- Stefan warned. _She's trying to get a reaction outta you. Maybe she knows!_

Damon schooled his features to that of nonchalance. "Vampire Barbie helped, didn't she?"  
Charlie's eyes were locked on his hands, fisted tightly and visibly shaking with rage. When their eyes met, there was sadness present.

_She knows._

"Lucky us, huh? Her voice seemed smaller too, resigned. "But we can't always count on luck or Caroline." A small rueful smile. "Just try…and think of the consequences of your actions from here on out, okay?" She grabbed the door knob, turned it and opened the door. Damon was frozen on the spot, not able to move, his mind and body paralyzed. Even his inner-Stefan was immobile.

_She knows! She knows! She knows! Sheknows! It's over! She hates me! It's over. Stupid, stupid…_

And then she was pressed against him, her soft warm body smelling of vanilla, lavender and blood. Her lips tasted like cherries against his own. She had his face boxed in between her hands and Damon just stood there, eyes wide-open, savoring what could possibly be his last second with her. Like this. Warm, loving and sweet. And as soon as it started, it abruptly ended. Charlie pulled back, a twinkle of mirth replacing the sadness of earlier. She stepped on her tippy-toes and brought her lips to his ear. "I'll see you later, Tiger."

One final peck and she was gone. As soon as he heard the front door slam, Vampire Barbie sauntered into his room, arms crossed, eyes hard, mirroring the image of Charlie earlier.

"If you hurt Charlie, you'll deal with me. And don't you dare deny there's nothing going between the two of you. I can smell her all over you and unless you've taken to wearing Stay Glossy Neon by Rimmel, I'm fairly certain it's Charlie's. And I know because I picked it out for her." A pause. "Anyways, I'm a vampire now, so I'm not scared of you and you can't compel me anymore. So, you hurt her and I'll knee you in the nuts with superhuman strength." With a toss of her blonde hair, she strutted out with an extra bounce in her.

Damon was standing in the same position Charlie left him in. And he survived a monologue with the blonde air-head. Today was so not his day.

_Vampire Barbie is a lot smarter than she looks,_ inner-Stefan mused, popping out of his hiding place. It jolted Damon's system awake.

"Now you show up," he muttered. Then he let out a chuckle. "I'm losing it. What am I doin', talking to myself? Damn that Morrison bitch."

_Yeah, yeah. But she's your bitch._

For now, anyway.

* * *

**A/N: Short, i know. But it's all i can manage for now. I'm swamped. And I feel bad because I've a lot to tell and things are sort of in a standstill. Anyways, this happens right after Mason outs The Salvatore brothers. To keep their relationship realistic, I thought it was high time Damon and Charlie argued. And this when Stefan and Elena were having troubles in paradise. Kinda has a nice symmetry to it. **

**I'm sorry if i broke hearts, dear readers but it's neccessary. Charlie is independent and Damon does love Elena and I don't think he can forget about her over night. And so... things will certainly be interesting.**

**A shout of to the following awesome people:**

**Natalia Moreau: Thank you heaps. I was fretting over whether the Winchesters were a lil' too OOC. But I'm reassured. And yes, I kinda have a plan figured out. Salvatores and Winchesters. I kinda really don't want them to meet up. It's will be a blood bath and I don't think I could ever take sides. Lol.**

**If-Looks-Could-Kill-453: I don't plan on abandoning this anytime soon. I've so much worked out and I'm more eager to share it with you readers than you are to read them. So, no worries, hun.**

**esthealice 17: Thanks babe. Sweet Damon...sighs...if only he was real!**

**ILoveYou1978: Supernatural is a religion. Take my word for it. Also, your username is in intriguing!**

**VampireSa5m1993: They too are my favorite sets. Notice how both older, devilishly handsome boys have names that start with D(Damon and Dean) while the younger, soulful and sweet ones start with S (Stefan and Sam.) Coincidence, I think not.**

**A big kiss for all readers and followers out there. I LOVE you.**

**Remember: it takes hours to write but seconds to comment so type away the square box at the bottom of the page and make me smile.**

**xoxoxoxoxo**


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for what you don't recognize.**

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_"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them" - Ernest Hemingway_

My head buzzed, my tongue weighed a ton and I was giggling girly. That's how you know I'm far gone, giggling. Especially the girly kind. Part of my sub-conscious was horrified at my antics, cringing as another manic sound spilled out of my throat, but I couldn't be bothered to care. I felt relaxed, almost happy and had no care in the world. I don't remember the last time I've been this way. Before mom's death? Before vampires? Before Mystic Falls and dad's disappearance? Before never?

Adam Levine was crooning about being in misery and there ain't nobody who could comfort him. The loud bass was sending shock waves vibrating through the hardwood floor, rattling beer bottles and the fillings at the back of my teeth. Most of Mystic High was here – I don't know where here is anymore – but I took comfort in knowing that Caroline was prowling around, intent on winning Matt back. As soon as we stepped through the door, she disappeared and left me fending for myself. And fend I did. I slapped away a few wandering hands that were attached to smashed jocks. I also recalling a mini-world war three with Slutty Sophie and her bitches. Apparently she was here to win Mick back too. Everyone's was trying to pet someone back.

"Okay. Alright. I got one." I blinked heavily at the boy in front of me. Long dark hair, deep-set dark eyes, a beautiful smile. I was checking him out shamelessly. Blame it on the a-a-a—alcohol.

"Eye of the tiger!" Mick announced with a snap of his fingers.

"Cheese!" I yelled over the loud music, blasting his ears since he was sitting right next to him on the love-seat. He scrunched up his nose in a grimace. "Ah hell to the no! It's a classic! It's awesome!"

"If you're living in a Rocky movie," I slurred back.

"Oh my, God." Mick was livid. He was also sober. I think. "I thought you had a great appreciation for awesome music."

"I'm not saying the song is trash. I'm just saying it's cheesy."

He wagged his back and forth in disbelief. "Let's just agree to disagree on this one because if we don't change the topic right this moment, I know we'll argue and you'll end up punching my nose." I giggled. "Or worse, you might Taser me."

Patting my purse, I mumble, "I forgot to bring it today."

He smiled that smile, the one that blinded you and lit his face up like a Christmas tree. "I figured when I saw you with those guys earlier. I'm sorry on their behalf. There are not the brightest bunch when sober and well …" he shrugged his shoulders. I brought the red solo cup to my lips but Mick snatched it away. I pouted. He rolled his eyes. I gave him my best puppy-eyes. He narrowed his.

"You're getting really drunk, Charlie."

Crossing my arms, I petulantly say, "I don't care."

"When you get the mother of all hangover in the morning, you'll be doing all sorts of caring."

"I hate you." He laughed good-naturedly and drained the remaining beer from my cup, crumbled it and flung it behind his back, not caring to see where it landed. Mick studied me intently, the only way he could make me squirm.

"You should drink more often," he mused, voice soft. "It loosens you up, makes you less uptight."

"That sounds," I said through a fit of giggles. "So _dirty_. You are such creep."

"I can quote the entire Lion King movie and own_ Singing in the Rain_. In vinyl. Of course I'm creepy."

I shrieked a laughter, imaging him listening to Gene Kelley, dancing along with him.

"I love _Singing in the Rain_," I admitted. "I love musicals." At his raised eyebrows, I was mortified.

"Charlie Sanders, Kick-ass Diva loves musicals?"

I slapped his shoulder. "Oh shut up! You make it sound like it's a bad thing." When he simply grinned, belligerently added, "What would your band mates think about their drummer laughing at clouds?"

Laughing, he raised his hands in surrender. "Musicals are kick-ass."

"Point well made." A beat. "So…Disney, huh?"

"Ah, c'mon. Lion King is too good to be considered a cartoon. It's a masterpiece!"

"I cried when Mufasa died. I still do every time I watch it."

He nodded in agreement. "Me too. Me too. Great soundtrack."

"Loved the opening sequence. Even though I have like, zero idea of what it means."

"I used to pick up my neighbors cat, climb to the roof and raise it to the sky."

We dissolved into hysterical laughter, slapping our thighs and howling at the ceiling. The image was planted in my head and I kept roaring with laughter every time I stopped.

"How old were you?"

"About five, I think." He ducked his head sheepishly, trying to hide his flushed face. Embolden by the alcohol in my system, I reached over and pinched his cheek. "You are so fucking adorable when you blush!"

If it was even possible, he turned redder. Mick tried to shove my hands away but I pinched his other cheek with my free hand and made cooing noises at him. Tomorrow, I know I'd vow to avoid him for the rest of my life but tonight…

"Go out with me," he blurted out, latching on to my wrists.

"W-what?" I stammered, hoping I had heard wrong.

"Let's go out, Charlie."

Hearing his words sobered me up faster than the sight of blood. I tried to pull my hands to me but he tightened his grip and his eyes held mine. I could read his every emotion clearly. There was fear, determination and even a few ounces of hope. The filter that connected by brain and mouth was broken and so I asked him, "Why?"

The atmosphere between us drastically changed and so did the music. Teenage Dream was on and I vaguely thought of how much I hate the original version. It's trashy. Unless it was Darren Criss or Boyce Avenue singing it. But the rest of the party rockers disagreed with me as they sang and danced along. Mick understood my question. He lowered our joined hands, not letting them go and placed them on my lap.

"There are millions of reasons as to why I wanna date you, Charlie," he began, rubbing the pad of his thumb over my knuckles. "You're amazing. Full of sass and funny as hell. You know the tracks of Rubber Soul like the back of your hand and you watch Misfits. I mean, how cool is that."

The corners of my lips tugged in a half-smile and I glanced away. My heart constricted.

"And if it wasn't obvious, you're breathtakingly beautiful."

I gasped at that, staring at him with a slack jaw. How can a person be so open, so honest? I can't even fathom how hard it is to put yourself out there, to open up yourself to rejection. And then it hit me, that I'm leading him on, that I'd have to hurt this sweet, sweet boy whose the polar opposite of Damon.

Damon with his devil-may-care attitude and blazing blue eyes. Damon and his obsession with Elena. It angers me, so so much that I'm not good enough for him. That I've to share the little bit he has to offer with Elena, who isn't even aware of his feelings.

_Keep telling yourself that. She's totally aware and plays on them._

Damon has never complimented me when it counts. Sure, he occasionally lets me know how 'intoxicating' I smell or how hot I'm in boyshorts and tank-tops. I'd like to pretend he's saying it because he means it, not because he feels obligated to say so when we're getting out mack on. And here is Mick, telling me I'm breathtakingly beautiful. Call me shallow but it makes me feel funny inside.

Pulling my hands out from his and put some space between us.

"Mick…" I started, hesitantly. "Look, I – "

"Why not?"

"Coz in the long run I'll only end up hurting you."  
"You don't know that."  
Instantly, flashes of fangs, blood, mutilated corpses and fires played in my mind with full audio effect. A hysterical laugh bubbled inside me and I fought hard to repress it.

"Trust me, you don't want to have anything to do with me when I drag you through the mud."

Mick's eyes narrowed, the first signs of irritations marring his features. He leaned back against the couch and stared straight ahead. Well, there goes another attempted relationship that I single-handedly ruined.

"Let me guess," he finally spoke. I looked up from my lap. "You're damaged?"

He said it without malice, without condescension. His eyes were blank and sincere. And a whispered breath of 'yes' tumbled out before I could bite my tongue. Mick sighed and moved closer but Caroline popped out of nowhere.

"Oh Lord," she groaned. "Did you see what Aimee Freaking Bradley is wearing? Dishrags! And she tried to latch on to my boyfriend with that fashion sense. I mean, if her top isn't a big enough turn-off, her dance moves are vomit inducing. Ho' with the pole much?" Then she promptly threw herself next to me, effectively creating a barrier between Mick and I. "And what Matt sees in her is beyond me."

"Matt isn't dating her," I reassured the upset blond. She glanced at me skeptically. "Are you sure? Coz she's constantly sniffing around – "

"I'm positive. I had a talk with him earlier. Said they're just friends."

Her bright smile of relief was contagious, and I smiled along despite how crappy I was feeling. Then…

"Slutty Sophie's been calling you every name in the book. You hanging with her ex aren't working for you either." As if just realizing he was there, she turned to him. Mick gave her a polite half-smile.

"Hal's been asking around for you. Something about this being your party and the birthday boy missing." To me, "And you! Hogging him for yourself. Have you no shame?" I opened my mouth to tell Mick not to mind Caroline but when I saw his expression – the same blank look he'd given me when I first met him – I knew he didn't want to hear anything I had to say. My heart lurched as I watched him walk away. Caroline was eyeing me curiously. "Don't."

I frowned. "Don't what?"

"Don't string him along." At my incredulous face, "You didn't think I just had a great sense of timing, did you? I'm a vampire now, remember. I heard how far the conversation was deteriorating and I just knew that you wouldn't filter you words seeing how tipsy you're."

"I'm drunk."

"For a drunk person, you look quite dignified."

"I'm the Reflective Drunk type."

"Zen Drunk," she stated, sending me giggling again. "But seriously, don't lead him on if you're not willing to commit."

"I'm not leading him on!"

She scoffed. "Yeah? Tell that to your forlorn expression as he walked away."

Mr. Cool and Withdrawn. I winced. "I wasn't doing it intentionally," I murmured, wringing my fingers. "At least, I don't think I'm."

After a few minutes of silence, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Why aren't you dating him?" Caroline wanted to know. "I mean, aside from the long-distance relationship – if you can even call it that – with this mysterious and elusive Kyle Jones you've been so mum about, why not?"

"Caroline, you know why. Look at our lives. It's too dangerous. And scary and…" My voice caught, thinking of mom. Of Dad.

This new and improved Caroline was surprisingly extremely empathetic. And also psychic.

"Our lives suck major balls. I get it." Her voice sounded wistful. "I really do."

Matt! I thought. She's thinking about Matt. It must be so hard to live with the guilt and hate of nearly eating your boyfriend and then proceeding to anger him until he's forced to break it off with you. My heart went out for her so I grabbed her hand and pulled her off the couch. "It's a party, Care! So let's pah-taaaayy!"

Laughing, we danced around, joining the packed floor. All the inhibitions I've possessed flew out the window, and soon I was drinking, singing and laughing all at the same time. I was happy. So happy I didn't mind having complete strangers invade my personal space and have their hands all over me. I was floating on cloud nine. Three songs turned to six and soon only a handful of people remained.

When a game of spin the bottle ensued, I participated whole-heartily. Slutty Sophie kept shooting me with daggers with her eyes and when the bottle she had spun landed on me, I picked Dare, just to see how far she'd go.

"Make out with one the boys here."

I groaned. "Really? Are we in grade school," I slurred. She simply arched one perfectly plucked eyebrow. A challenge. Good. Glancing around the small circle of trashed teens, I noticed three out of the five boys present were seriously smashed. I was even sure I saw one of them throw up behind a potted plant earlier. So that left Matt and Mick. Matt looked flustered with a constipated smile on his face, gauging Caroline's reaction. I'd never do that to my friend.

I turned my gaze to Mick. Mick who was intently watching my lips. I flushed all over. Some part of me knew this was a bad, bad idea. I was toying with his feelings. I was probably cheating on Damon. But logic has a way of always presenting itself at the most unfortunate times.

Reasons to kiss Mick:

There's no one else to kiss.

Slutty Sophie challenged me and I'm not a coward.

I'm secretly hoping that Mick might forgive me if I give him a little something-something.

It's just a game anyway.

I'm really want to know how kissing him feels.

Five good, solid reasons. So I crawled over to him, cheeks burning, eyes locked into his. And the weird thing was, we didn't need words to communicate. Automatically, his warm and slightly calloused fingers cradled my head. My heart beat went from steady to irregular in two seconds flat. My breaths were shallow, my eyes fluttering shut.

And we kissed. There was no firework. No electric sparks. No burning touches and coursing heat. None of the things I experienced with Damon.

Mick captured my bottom lip between his and gently sucked. I grabbed fistful of his shirt and deepened the kiss. He hummed in appreciation. There were gasps and cat-calls from our audience and it brought me back to reality and I pulled away from him. Mick searched my face, brushing back my hair gently.

"Charlie …"

"You fucking slut!"

And I was on my feet, stumbling out of the room, ignoring Sophie's outrage. I stepped out to the front porch. The night air was chilly, the sky starless. Everything seemed frozen in place.

"What have I done?" I wondered a loud. What am I even doing here?

Did I just kiss someone other than Damon? I pressed fingers to my lips, recalling the experience.

"Charlie!"

Mick was standing in the doorway, face etched with concern and something else. Shame? Guilt? I was probably projecting since I'm pretty sure those were the emotions I was wearing.

"You alright?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Are you?"

"I asked first!"

"And I asked second!"

"Alright." He glanced up at the moon and came to stand beside me. "I'm good, I guess. A little hurt but I'm sure you're feeling a lot worse than I do."

"I didn't mean to….I mean, I did but I wasn't thinking and I'm sorry I kissed you." As soon as the words were out, I realized how they sounded. "No! That came out wrong. I'm not sorry that –"

"Hey!" he was chuckling, eyes bright. "It's cool. I get what you're trying to say."

"You do?"

He nodded. I sighed in relief. "I thought you were going to hate me."

Mick gave me a funny look. "Why? Because you're dating someone else?"

At my shocked expression, he smiled softly. "Sanders, I'm pretty but I ain't dumb."

"I never said that," I mumbled looking away.

"The only reason you're so torn up about the kiss is because you're feeling guilty. You wronged someone. Someone you care for deeply."

Reaching out, I grabbed his arm and turned him so he could face me.

"Mick, I might not have said it but I care about you a lot."

"I know. But not as much as the other guy. But I can handle it. I really like you, Charlie. And it's not all or nothing with me. I want you in my life. No, _I _want to be part of _your_ life. Whatever role you'd let me fill in. Since I didn't cut it as your boyfriend, I might have to give the friendship thing a try."

I smiled at him, the tightness in my chest was gone. "I'd really like that."

"I thought you would."

"So about the …"

"We were smashed and in the morning we'll have a case of selective amnesia. I'm willing to forget about the kiss if you are."

I flashed him a wicked grin. "What kiss?"

"Charlie! You're phone won't stop ring…" Caroline glanced between us.

Mick rubbed the back of his neck and leaned down, saying, "I just hope he knows how precious a person you are." And with that, he spun on his heels and loped back into the house, side-stepping Caroline who was gazing at him with a frown.

"Here you go," she said, handing me my leather jacket and IPhone.

"So, uh, that was some hot lip action going on."

I put on my jacket and stuffed the phone into my pocket. "You should forget about that," I told her and walked off to her car.

"Forget that! Are you insane? That was awesome. Fire. Passion. It was poetic," she said, trailing after me. "And you should have seen Sophie's face. Fifty shades of red."

She beeped the car open and I climbed in, ducking my head to hide the blush creeping up my face. Caroline was still rambling on and on, starting the car and driving away. I nodded and smiled at the appropriate times but my mind was back to the sweaty room, back to Mick and the kiss I promised to forget. Involuntarily, I realized I had been biting my lower lip, fighting off a smile.

There might haven't been explosions of lust and love and sizzling chemistry, but it was amazing. It was sweet, passionate and had an almost serene quality to it. The kind of kiss that leaves you satisfied and happy. It conjured up images of long walks on the beaches, stargazing and everything romantic. And it scared me. That I could feel strongly for someone, someone who wasn't Damon.

A loud clanking sound emitted from the front hood of the car.

"What the hell!" Caroline exclaimed. And we watched in horror as steam started to billow out of it. Putting on the hazard light, she pulled off the shoulder and parked. Quickly, we got out to inspect the damage.

"How did this happen?" I asked, turning at her with accusing eyes.

Throwing the hood open, she muttered, "It was working fine a few minutes ago."

I coughed, the acrid smoke burning at the back of my throat and itching my eyes. "The engine is a complete bust!" Caroline announced. "This is messed up."

I looked around us. Empty stretch of road. Dense woods on either side. A foreboding sense was niggling at the tip of my spine. Déjà vu much. Just like the night I was attacked by the tomb vampires. I backed away from the car.

"You alright, Charlie?" Caroline was watching me curiously.

Taking a deep breath, I offered her a smile. "I'm fine. Maybe we should just start walking. It will probably only take us ten minutes to get to the square."

"Fine." Taking a few seconds to send a rapid text, she fell into footsteps with me. "Just texted my mother. She's going to be pissed."

I watched my stumbling feet. "How is she doing?"

"It's back to square one with her! Yelling at each other is the only way we communicate now. That and text messages." She smiled wryly. "All the progress we made those few days… sometimes, I wished I didn't let Damon compel her to forget. She begged me, you know."

"But it had to be done," I told her.

"I want to be the perfect daughter for her but…if I act any different, she'll suspect something." A pause. "What about you?"

I gave her a side-long glance. "What about me?"

She bumped my shoulder playfully. "C'mon Sanders, stop playing coy. Give me all the dirty details. Are you and Mr. Jones an item? Are you exclusive? Did you have sex yet?"

My eyes bulged out. "Care! Seriously!"

"Seriously!"

"No! We didn't!" I blurted out. "Not yet, anyway."

"So what's he like?"

A shrug. "Okay, I guess."

"Is he a hottie?"

Hell to the YEAH! "He's not hard on the eyes."

"As good-looking as Mick?"

I almost tripped. "Uh…I…guess. And why are we talking about this anyway?"

"I'm just looking out for you. What? Don't make that face. I'll have you know that I do care about people besides myself. I'm not self-centered anymore." I couldn't help but agree with her. "Gosh! I really used to be stupid. _And_ shallow. _And_ useless." Her gaze turned hazy, as if she was recalling a painful memory.

"Who told you that?" My voice came out sharp with anger.

"Damon did."

My steps faltered, shocked at her words. Damon and Caroline. Damon and Caroline. Damon and Caroline.

He hurt Caroline.

Keeping my voice steady, I asked, "Why did he say that?"

"Because I couldn't get him what he wanted." She chuckled softly. "I was desperate. I clung to him when Stefan chose Elena over me."

"Wait, what?"

"I saw him first. But he didn't want to have anything to do with me and it left me bitter and sore. So when Damon paid me the least bit of attention, I threw myself at him. Not one of my finest moments."

We walked in silence for a while. Caroline kept turning back, cocking her head this way and that.

"Then what happened?"

She scuffed her booted high heels on the ground. "I started going out with Damon. He compelled me, fed on me, used me and threatened to kill me if I didn't do his bidding." She turned to me with sad eyes. "He was horrible to me, Charlie." My stomach twisted sickly. It felt as if someone kicked me in the gut. "But then Elena made him feel again. And then he turned into the Damon we all know and hate. But it's over now and – did you hear that?"

I stopped and listened. Silence. "I don't hear a thing." We started walking. "Besides, you've got super hearing now so you probably picked up something from the woods."

"I guess."

Silence.

"Just… just be careful, okay. About guys, I mean. And I might not be the best person to preach but…they could be serious dickheads."

It felt as if Caroline knew a secret she wasn't letting me in on. The whole Damon-drama seemed very suspicious, but her worry was valid and coming from a good place and it warmed my heart that despite every shitty thing that happened to her, she managed to pull through with such sensitivity and optimism.

"I used to think that boy plus girl equated to sex, but now, it's all flowers and chocolates baby."

I laughed, picturing Damon standing at the front porch with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers. In an alternate universe maybe.

"Okay! Seriously, you didn't hear that?"

I pulled her along. "Come on! You're being paranoid. It's just a squirrel or a chipmunk or something equally fluffy and cute and harmless."

My phone buzzed against my thigh but I ignored it. "After many encounters with Katherine, I've earned the right to be paranoid."

And then it happened. A loud snap echoing from the dense woods on our left. We halted, Caroline's grip on my wrist almost bruising. Another snap, this one from our right. Adrenaline was pumping into my blood stream and muscles were coiled, ready to either bolt or strike. Whatever remaining alcohol induced fog that was wrapped around my brain evaporated with every alien noise that echoed.

"Care…"I cursed my voice for wavering. "Let's go."

Her gripped tightened. I bit my tongue to keep from moaning in pain.

"Hush. There's something out there."

The phone vibrated again and again. Caroline's hard blue eyes wordlessly ordered me to stop it. Just as I reached into my pocket, there was a burst of figure from the bushes on the right and I was shoved forward so hard, I flew a few feet before crashing down on the ground in my knees. The pain reverberated all the way to the back of my brain.

"Charlie! Run!"

A big burly man stood facing me, dressed like a trucker and heaving like a bull. Caroline was picking up herself of the ground and in the time it took to blink, she was on him, gripping his throat and sending him over her shoulder and onto the ground. He let out a hiss and fangs erupted from his jaws.

"Run!" she yelled at me, eyes murderous. "Call for back up and run like hell!"  
I jumped to my feet and backed away slowly. I couldn't leave her alone with this guy…this vampire. It would take a while for either Salvatores to get here, anything could happen in the meanwhile.

"What are you waiting for?"

I picked up my pace, trying to punch in the code but my fingers shook so bad and the sound of Caroline's struggle made me stop short every single time.

_Think, Charlie, think! How to kill a vampire?_

A stake. A goddamn fucking stake. I'm surrounded by woods everywhere. Forgoing the phone, I dove into the woods and plucked through the dense ground until I found a stick sharp enough to inflict serious damage.

A hard, warm body pressed against my back when I straightened. A shudder ran through me. My mind was frantic, scattering to form any coherent thoughts. Something was behind me. Someone. Probably a vampire. Wrapping my fingers tightly around the stick, I spun fast on my heels and blindly struck my weapon.

"Too slow, Sanders."

The stake fell from my hand and to the ground.

And as I looked up into warm doe-eyes and easy smile that could see through my strongest walls, tears of frustration and relief streamed down my face.

"West fucking Dylan," I whispered. "You elusive bitch!"

"I'd chat and all, but first, I gotta go and kill a vampire."

* * *

**A/N:** **Sooo...an update. Finally! I know peeps. I suck. Life sucks. But I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Soon I'll be hitting chapter 30! Talk about milestone. I've never, ever, written 25 chapters, let alone 30. My inspirations run dry and ultimately I end up abandoning the project. So YAY me and THANKS a hella lot for being there, reading and encouragement. Virtual cookies to ya'll!**

**Shout out to the following dedicated reviewers. You are amazeballs!**

**VampireSa5m1993: Dean and Damon, shooting the breeze at the Grille. I sight I'd kill to see. Lol.**

**violet-amethyst: I try babe. I try to make it awesome but it's all Charlie. She has a brain and mouth of her own and tends to do whatever she feels like doing. It's irritating but hey, it works. And I just love that you have a moniker for them. Darlie! There will be some Delena, some Darlie, some ups and downs. Don't lose hope though.**

**If-Looks-Could-Kill-453: Well, Charlie will bounce right back so don't you worry.**

**Natalia Moreau: I get what you mean, babe. And it irritates me that one minute Damon is moving hell and heaven for Elena and the next, head over heels for the new girl. And yeah, I've been setting up their relationship to be flawed and fragile. Both are far cry from perfect and when you think about it, Charlie comes from a law enforcement background. There are no grey moral areas in her world and Damon spills blood and rips out hearts for a sport. So yeah. Expect a not so smooth sailings for these two.**

**I wanna thank every reader/reviewer/follower of this story. I'd love to hear all of your thoughts. They are motivational.**

**Remember, it takes hours to write but just a few seconds to comment. So type away at the small square box at the bottom of the page. Reviews are loooooove!**


	30. Chapter 30

_**"I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul."- Pablo Neruda**  
_

Falling in love is a game-changer. Hating ever second of it, is , as West has put it, "a whole new ball game." Being in love is supposed to be this constant flow of euphoria that bathes every single nerve-endings in your body. You're supposed to be floating on cloud nine and smelling roses with the goofiest smile on your face. At least, that's how the media and literature portrays it. I've never been in love so I gathered all of my pointers from novels and my parents. But the cold reality of it: it freaking hurts. A _lot._

Screw you Nicolas Sparks, you liar.

I'm in love with Damon. Falling for him was fast and hard. Exactly like the way everything is where he's concerned. I didn't even realize it until I was in the thick in of it all. There was no electricity, no cliché-riddled lyrics blaring from the radio. One minute I'm stealing a fry from West's plate at the Grille while we play catch-up, and the next…Damon enters with Alaric and he sends me a smile. Small, tentative and the most genuine smile I've ever witnessed grace his beautiful face. And there it was. _BAM! _Like a freight train.

It didn't matter that I was furious at him.

It didn't matter that he was infatuated with my friend.

It didn't matter that he had tortured, maimed and killed for his own entertainment for over a century.

I hurried out and locked myself inside West's car. He stood outside, peering in while I cried my eyes out. When I calmed down, I unlocked the car and explained to him everything, barely making it through my incoherent babbling. There was a long, pregnant pause when I was done, anxiously awaiting his reaction. "You're in some deep shit."

I laughed and he joined me and we both knew that it was the understatement of the year. I wouldn't trade him for anything. He drove me home, put on _The Breakfast Club_ and we never spoke of it again.

You might think being completely in love with someone would lessen the disappointment and extinguish the raging fire burning inside you, but it is the exact opposite. It amplifies all those emotions. And it doesn't help when Damon went behind my back and literally ripped Mason Lockwood's heart out and proceeded to lie about it. Not to mention, pissing off Katherine and having her make Jenna stab herself. When Jeremy called and told me that she was in surgery, time froze and speed up. I remember dropping the stake in my hand, West wrestling the phone out of my death grip and then I smelt the cold antiseptic air of the hospital and felt Jeremy's tears seeping through the thin fabric of my shirt.

Elena broke it off with Stefan for real then. But it wasn't his fault. It was Damon's. And he knew it. So did I. But I didn't have the guts to do what was right the way Elena did. I was a coward. I wanted whatever I have with him to last, especially now that I was drowning in him. But the thing is, I've gone out of my way to make sure our paths don't cross lately.

Until today.

He was sprawled on my bed, flipping through a copy of _The Time-traveler's wife._ "You've been avoiding me," he said without preamble.

Shielding my face with my hair, I made a bee-line to the closet, sifting through it to pick out a dress for the Lockwood Masquerade Ball tonight. "I've been busy," I mumbled, eyeing a black-backless dress.

"With what?"

"Uh, you know, with school and the newspaper club. Oh and practice."

His voice was nasty. "Ah. You and bitch-boy."

I spun around and pinned him with a withering glare. "His name is –"

"What the hell happened to your face?"

_Crap! _ I turned away but it was too late. His long cold fingers had a firm grip on my chin. I looked into his blazing icy blues and I forgot how to breathe. "It- it's nothing," I stammered.

A beat. "You have got a shiner, Shortie."

I couldn't help it. "Brownie points for Mister Damon McObvious."

He glared in warning. "Did the Bitch-boy –"

"_Damon!_"

An eye-roll. "Did the faithful puppy side-kick of yours do this to you?"

Indignant on West behalf, I stepped back. Damon followed and snaked an arm around my waist, locking me in. "Why would you even say that?" I hissed.

His face hardened. "Really? You've got to ask me that?Ever since he rolled into town thinking he's all Rambo, you've been trynna keep up, pretending to be Buffy the Vampire Slayer, version 2.0"

I fought out of his grasps but he drew me closer. "What's wrong with being careful and prepared?"

Our noses were inches away and it took formidable inner strength to not melt against him.

"You've got nothing to worry about," he replied smoothly. "And Katherine will soon be out of our lives for good."

I swallowed hard and fixed my gaze at an invisible spot on the wall behind him. I haven't told him about the vampire attack. Haven't told anyone and sworn Caroline to secrecy. According to West, after disappearing with the burly vampire that Caroline managed to put down, he was less than a day old. And he was here for me. Sent my someone named Klaus. The same bastard who sent that vampire in New York. West tortured the vampire, got everything he needed and then drove a freshly whittled stake through his dead heart. At first, I was stunned scared at the foreign gleam present in my best friend's eyes. And then we decided that it was wiser to keep this hush, at least until Katherine was out of the picture. And we also agreed that I really learn how to defend myself. So, technically, I haven't lied to Damon. I just withheld information. And if you want to get all specific, well, he killed Mason and indirectly got my Godmother stabbed and that trumps _everything_.

I turned my eyes to him. "I just don't want to rely on others to keep me safe. And that includes you."

Silence. and then a different tactic . "So, whose fist greeted your face?" he wanted to know.

I grimaced. "Slutty Sophie."

An amused smirk played on his perfect lips. "Let me guess, the evil cheerleader?"

I nodded and nuzzled his neck, relishing his muskiness. "Cornered me in the bathroom, along with two of her side-kicks. The cliché of it all made me shudder and want to hurl."

Damon swayed us to imaginary music only he could hear. "Three against one. Hardly a fair fight."

I grinned against his cold skin. "I was armed."

"Of course you were."

"Of course I was. I used pepper-spray in bitch number one's eyes."

He whistled in appreciation, nibbling my earlobe, making my brain a little bit hazy. "What about bitch number two?

"Tazered her in the boob."

Chuckling, he spun me around and pulled me back, flush with his body. "Hm. You fight dirty." I shuddered in his arms, his cold breath hitting my neck, his words caressing my skins. "I like a dirty girl."

"A-and… I tried to break Slutty Sophie's nose but my aim was sorta off because she managed to get the first punch. I did however give her a nice bruise on her nose and a deep scratch line to remember me by."

He dipped me all of a sudden, making me squeal shamefully. I stared up at this beautiful, beautiful man who insisted on acting like a monster. This man I loved, despite his flaws. This man who can easily cause me to fall over the edge of the cliff, unknowingly. I ran my fingers through his silky hair and his eyes softened. "Are you in trouble?"

Playful and considerate. I might have woken up in a parallel universe.

"Nah." Another undignified squeal when he pulled me up abruptly. "Cashed in a favor Ric owed me. But the principal confiscated my Tazer and pepper-spray."

"What's that?"

I flashed back to the night many months ago when I found Jenna astride my history teacher, interrupting a clearly heated foreplay. When I reminded Alaric today, the tips of his ears turned bright red and he conceded without argument. I made it out of the principal's office with a sentence of one week of detentions. My opponents didn't fare so well.

"That… is something Ric can tell you himself over a drink."

Damon pouted those delicious lips and I resisted the urge to claim them. "So why did she want you dead anyway?"

My heart stuttered and I was sure he heard it. Probably felt it too. "She spread some vicious rumors about me."

"What for?"

Why was he being so inquisitive all of a sudden. Normally he'd forgo everything and delve straight into the heavy petting. Gathering my wits, I explained, "She's just jealous. She had this thing once with West and it didn't work out and now, she blames me for it."

So I was lying again. I really should be a lawyer. But how could I possibly tell him that the real reason Slutty Sophie declared war on me. The kiss I had with Mick. He doesn't know about it. Hell, he doesn't _need_ to know about it. Trying to keep it buried and behind me is hard enough, but not knowing how Damon would react if he found out is harder. He's volatile, impulsive and unpredictable. And those are his good days. I don't want Mick to be an unfortunate witness of Damon's wrath. Did it weigh heavily in my heart? Yes. Do I feel like the whore Slutty Sophie has accused me of being? Yes. Did I intend to tell Damon the truth? Not if I can help it.

Damon watched me, wheels turning in his head. I stared back unflinchingly. And then he asked, "So what's the general consensus?"

Mentally, I heaved a sigh and sent a heartfelt thank you to God. "Well, 99.9% of Mystic High think that I'm a whore and a home wrecker."

His grin was a tad dimmer than the previous ones. "That's my girl."

My heart executed a neat loop the loop. It was pathetic, the effect this man has on me.

"You wouldn't have it any other way," I teased, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, some of my training should pay off. Granted, those girls weren't vampires but they come close enough. At least, now I know I have to be five times as fast if I plan on to getting the drop on any immortal."

He furrowed his brow and crossed his arms. "I still don't get why you're so insistent on this."

"Damon, I told you a thous-"

"I know, I know, you secretly wish to be Wonderwoman and fight off evil and all that jazz but I can't help but feel a little neglected here. You're always off with Bitch…er… West which brings me to the first question: are you avoiding me, Shortie?"

"No."

"Liar."

My heart palpitated. i decided to be at least half-honest.

"Yes."

"Yes, you're a liar or yes, you're avoiding me."

"Yes, I'm avoiding you," I muttered, walking past him back to the closet.

"Why?"

Is he being serious? He can't be. I picked out the black dress. I couldn't be bothered to doll up, I was only attending out of respect for Carol Lockwood. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"If it's about Katherine's wolf-boy –"

"Mason," I corrected him, gritting my teeth and fisting the dress in my hand. "Can't you even have the decency to be respectful? Is it that hard, Damon? Really? I know you weren't born an asshole and don't you dare blame vampirism for it because Stefan and Caroline are decent." I was getting worked up, my voice thick with bottled up emotions ready to be released. This was what I was afraid of. Talking led to confrontations and emotional outburst. "You can be real nice whenever you want so why do you do that, huh?"

"Whoa! Shortie, are you PMSing?" He grinned, moving closer to me. "You need to –"

"No! I don't need to do anything, Damon. _You_ need to listen. You need to stop acting like you don't give a flying fuck about everything."

He chuckled, it was dark and bitter. "Oh honey, it is not an act."

"So you don't care about Elena?" Low-blow. Fuck it.

"This has nothing to do with her," he said in a steely voice. Eyes equally steely.

"Don't insult my intelligence!"

"And don't make this about her!" A pause. "Ah, you're jealous. Now I get it." A taunting smirk.

"I'm not," I insisted but my voice wavered when he hit bull's-eye. And that look he was giving me, haughty, superior, Moses at the disbelievers as he parted the red sea. "it's just you've a few buttons and I want to learn which ones to push."

"Sure, sure, whatever flows your boat."

Huffing, I pick out a duffel bag and stuffed the dress in it and moved to the vanity, tossing in a few assortments of make-up and perfumes. I could feel his gaze drilling a hole at the back of my head, but I stayed that way, my back to him, eyes averted. Last thing I wanted was to give him the satisfaction of seeing the hurt or the tears in my eyes.

"You can leave now," I tell him with a steady voice.

"And not clear the air. It's _charged_ with sexual tension. Maybe we should do something about it."

I faced him. "What are you suggesting? Angry sex? Hate sex? Oh, I know, why not some kinky fuckery with a lot of slamming against the walls and hair tugging." We glared at each other. I was seething, nostrils flared while the vein in Damon's jaw ticked furiously. "Sorry, but I'm not into revenge fuck."

No one was more shocked by the vulgar words falling out my mouth. But I was emotionally drained, physically tired and in ache and Damon was being especially nasty. The shrill noise of his cellphone broke the glaring contest.

"Yeah. Good. Get baby Gilbert ready. I don't want him screwing this up." A glance in my direction. "I'll be there in twenty."

"Off to get your daily dosage of murder with a side of blood?" I snarked when he pocketed the phone.

His smirk was feral. "Oh it murder alright." When I blanched, "Don't bust out the robes and the gavel yet, Shortie. Katherine's the only one dying tonight."

My heart pounded and my ears began to ring. "Katherine? T-tonight? Wait, when the hell was this decided?"

"Uh…today. And before you ask me why you weren't initiated into the Scooby-doo gang, let me tell you this: we don't need you. It's too dangerous and the less people know about it, greater are the chances we might pull this thing off."

I pressed my lips into a thin line and thought about the possible fall outs if this plan of his went to hell. Katherine would go on a killing spree.

"Listen to me, it will work." All of a sudden he's in front of me, so close yet so far. "We've literally exhausted ourselves and I happen to have a plan B and C up my sleeves."

"Who's in on this?"

His fingers brushed back a few tendrils of my hair. "St. Stefan, Ric, Our resident Witch, Vampire Barbie and Baby-Gilbert."

"And Elena?"

Something went on behind his eyes but it was too quick for me to catch it. "She doesn't know and we'd like to keep it that way."

"And how are you planning on taking her down?"

"At the masquerade ball." His eyes land on the duffel bag. "Which is why you're not attending."

Uh…hold up. Rewind. Stop. Play.

"Excuse me?" I sassed. "You can't tell me what to do."

"Uh, I can and I'm telling you, the masquerade is off-limits so stay at home and be a little good girl."

I slung the duffel bag over my shoulder and marched to the door and predictably he blocked it. "Do you have to be difficult every single time?"

Taking a calming breath, I addressed him as I would a five-year old child. "Damon, I've planned to go to the Masquerade a month ago. Carol Lockwood, the mayor herself invited me."

"She's the mayor, not God."

"She's also my mother's childhood friend. Blowing her off is not only rude but disrespectful since you took it upon yourself to murder Tyler's uncle. Also, this dress has put some serious dent into my account and I'll be damned if I don't wear it tonight."

The familiar blare of West's car alerts me to his presence. "So, excuse me. And I'll see you at the ball."

His grip on my wrist was hard. "Stay away."

I wretched my hand back and glared up at him. "I'm not her, Damon. You don't get to play the hero in _my_ story and tell _me_ how it plays out. I'm not some fragile thing that needs to be rescued." _I refused to be so. _"Now, please, step out my way."

And he did. He even opened the door for me.

"You're right," he whispered into my ear. "You're _nothing_ like her. But deep inside, we all know you wish you were."

I gasped, shocked and indignant, but when I turned to slap him, my hand brushed thin air and he was gone.

* * *

West was entranced by the fire dancers who were performing outside the Lockwood estate. Their tricks were neat, I'll give them that but I was too wired with anticipation to be as fascinated as I'd have liked. People loitered at the front, meeting and greeting each other and standing around in circles, masks held to their faces, enjoying the festive atmosphere.

It seems that here, in Mystic Falls, the population were almost always celebrating some trivial thing or the other. My theory, it's easier to dupe them if they are too drunk. The Council really was smart.

"C'mon, West. We've seen enough," I whine for the fifth time tonight, trying but failing miserable to drag him along. If he was a well-built linebacker before, now he was bulkier, his shoulders broader, his grips almost lethal. If I didn't know him better, I'd accuse him on pumping up with steroids but what he said about his dad and the shit he's endured, I know for a fact it was all hard work. And it's been rewarding. He's got four numbers in the span of an hour.

Sweet Jesus.

My sixth tug did the trick and he stumbled alongside me, a silly grin on his face. "Did you see that chick, Charls? The way she bent her back was crazy!"

"Yeah, yeah, almost as crazy as Katherine being here." He sobered up immediately. "Oh, wait, did I just burst your bubble?"

He pouted. "Buzz kill." He clawed at his neck, ruining my perfect Windsor style not. I slapped his hand away. "Stop fidgeting. You're ruining your look."

"How do you even know how to tie a tie? I'm a guy and I can't do one to save myself."

My smile was rueful. "Dad. He taught me when I was six. Every Monday morning, I used to tie it for him. Which was the only day of the week he wore a three piece suit. Monday-Morning-Meetings we called them." My voice trails off as I finish tying the knot. I step back to admire my handiwork.

"We'll find him, Charls." And his eyes were hard and determined, a new facet to his morphing personality but I could find traces of naivety and his boyish nature if I look deep enough. "As soon as this Katherine business ends, top priority would go to your father."

My heart swelled three sizes and I hugged him tightly. "I love you, man."

"Whoa! A confession! That was wholly unexpected. But I'm humbled, Sanders. I truly am. I think I might fall over." And then I proceeded to hit him in the gut.

Hard.

"Ow! I really don't know why I keep up with you."

I marched up the stairs to the Lockwood mansion, West hot on my heels. I spotted to familiar figures in suits and masks. The Salvatore brothers. Looking like Armani materials, with their feral beauty and graceful steps. Hell, I bet they were wearing custom-made, hand-tailored Armani suits.

My steps faltered and had the sudden urge to run and hide from Damon. We've hurt each other with words, using them as swords and he left me humiliated and hollow. I wasn't ready for another confrontation.

"It's cool," West whispered to me. "You're wearing a mask. He won't recognize you."

I fingered the intricate thread patterns on the silver blue venetian mask that was set on my face and instantly felt a lot safer. And then his gaze locked on mine and he knew it was me just like I knew it was him. I could visibly see the coiling of his muscles and the thinning of his lips. Stefan stopped mid-talk, furrowed his already furrowed brow and did a double-take when he spotted me.

And unlike his brother, his lips stretched into a smile, albeit a forced one and made to walk to me but Damon latched onto his arm and pulled him back. Rushed words were exchanged and then, with an apologetic smile from the good brother, they walked away.

"Jerk," West stated vehemently.

"Agreed."

"Still don't know why you're into him."

"I don't know either."

"Dump him?" He was hopeful. "And get with Mick."

I shook my head. "I love him, West. I can't just, un-love him."

He made a gagging noise and stuck a finger down his throat. I chuckled and climbed the rest of the stairs and as soon as we enter the house, my best friend made a bee-line to the delicious looking food and left me all alone.

Boys.

I took a survey of the people, trying to spot familiar faces. Saw a couple from school, West's team mates and Randy the photographer of Miss Wentz class. A maskless Jeremy descended from the second floor, which I knew where off-limits. Bonnie was with him. Hm. Spidey sense tingling. Old friend Mr. Curiosity reared its head after a very long vacation.

A warm hand on my shoulder startled me.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

It took me a few minutes to get my bearings. I glanced up at Mick. "You clean up nice," I told him with a smile. He checked me out and only gave me a grin and a wink. "Care to dance?"

My smile dimmed a little. Dance? Now? Tonight when shit's about to go down? Quickly I glanced around the place, looking for a raven haired man but found none.

"C'mon, Charlie. Don't leave me hanging here. Offer's going once, going twice.."

Impulsively I grabbed his hand. A little too enthusiastically. He let out a bark of laughter at my flustered state. He held out his right arm and without hesitation, I took it. We went outside to the backyard, mingling with other couples.

"So, I wanted to personally apologize for what Sophie did to you today."

I blinked, dumb-founded. The fight. I've all but forgotten about it what with Damon and Katherine dilemma. "It's not your fault, Mick. You shouldn't apologize."

"Doesn't mean I don't feel guilty or responsible." He spun me around and I realized this is the second time I'm dancing around today. Something's not right in the world.

"Well, I did do a number on her."

The smile he flashed me was genuine with a hint of pride. "I knew you would. Kinda hoping you'd beat something into her." A pause. "Or out of her. Anyways, you did good Charlie. And I want to take you out…just as friends," he hastily added when he saw something in my face. "At the Grille or a place of your choice. You can bring your gang if it makes you feel better."

His words, his actions and the way he was lavishing attention on me felt so, so, _so_ amazing, especially in contrast to Damon's earlier behavior. Pathetic and desperate but as long as we are clear on the friend thing, I was all for it.

"Sounds like a plan. And by the way, my _gang?"_

He shook his head, twirled me and then, "You know what I mean. Elena and the Co."

"I'll have you know –"

A tap on my shoulder interrupted my witty quip. West's face was hard and urgent. He gave Mick a nod of acknowledgement. "Can I borrow her for a second?"

Mick reluctantly let go of my waist. "Sure. Uh..i'll see you around." I offered him a sympathetic smile, a la Stefan.

West held my upper arm hard as we rushed through the crowd. "Aimee Bradley is dead."

I stumbled on my heels but he caught me. "What!"

"Katherine ripped out her spine and tossed her body to Stefan." He stopped in front of the house. " I think whatever they've planned, is going down right now."

_Oh my god. Oh my god. Omigod!_

My panic induced anxiety was about to kick in. "What do we do?" I asked West. He seemed a little thrown off, that I was the one seeking for his guidance. He recovered quickly. "Alright. I want you inside the house. Stay close to people."

"But..."

"We're not taking the risk of getting killed, Charls."

All I know about Aimee was her horrible fashion taste, her loose ways and infatuation with Matt, all those tidbits of information only supplied by Caroline. I didn't want to die here tonight, just like her. Not before finding my dad. Not before making amends with Damon. Not before I graduate!

"And I'll try to do some damage control," he continued. "See if there's anything crazy. Kibosh the plan if i have to."

"Damon would never let you," I stated.

"You let me handle that, okay." He began to remove his tie and then, "What about you? Got your stake?"

I patted the small stake plastered on my thigh with a holster and nodded. "Be careful," I told him before running up the stairs. As soon as I entered, a crazy looking Jeremy was clambering up the same stairs he climbed down earlier. Without much thought, I followed after him.

He didn't even notice.

As I neared the top, the sound of scuffle fell on my ears and then Jeremy's fearful voice,

"Stop! You're hurting Elena! Everything you're doing to her is hurting Elena!"

Upturned chairs and tables greeted me at the mouth of the room. Stefan was on his back, Katherine's neck tightly wound around his arm and Damon was hovering over them, stake poised to kill. No one noticed me. Katherine gracefully stood up with a cocky grin and faced a shocked Damon.

"You think you two are the only ones with a witch on your side? Wrong. And something tells me my witch is better than your witch."

Snatching the stake from Damon's hand, she struts away. And then the men face Jeremy and see me, shock evident on their faces. Stefan turned his gaze to Jeremy.

"Jeremy, go make sure Elena's okay. Go."

Katherine dropped a line about how Elena was the center of their attention and proceeded to cut her hand. Stefan intervened. Another stake. She aimed at her stomach. My mouth was dry, heart strutting.

"Wait!" Damon yelled, halting Katherine's actions. With bated breath, I watched her smile in victory before sitting down and saying, "So, how about that moonstone?"

Damon was rigid and when his eyes locked on mine, I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. He walked toward me. "Why are you here?"

I took an inventory of his body, checking for bruises and cuts even though logically I'm aware that he's incapable of getting hurt permanently, I still released a breath when I saw his flawless skin.

"I saw a distressed Jeremy and Aimee Bradley is dead," I whispered.

"This doesn't concern you. Leave."

"Come with me," I urged, slipping my fingers into his hand.

He looked over his shoulder, at Stefan who was eyeing us suspiciously and Katherine enjoying a private joke. Damon dropped my hand, and with it, my heart sunk. "Leave. Now."

"Ah, trouble in paradise," Katherine commented. "Done with the honey-moon face already. You didn't last long."

"Shut it, bitch," Damon growled and I stepped back, hugging myself. The familiar burning behind my eyes was my cue to leave. But should I leave them here? All alone with this supreme bitch?

"Tsk, tsk, Damon. You might have been a bore back in the day but you did know how to treat a lady."

"Charlie." It was Stefan. "You don't have to be here. For your safety, please walk away."

A clap. "And that's how it's done. Damon, take notes." A flirty grin was thrown at Stefan.

Damon was glaring at the floor in front him hard, fighting internally to keep his emotions under the poker face he's mastered so well.

Once again I reached out to him. He stilled. I waited. He dropped it again and my eyes watered. Stupid girl, I thought to myself. Keeping your pathetic hopes.

"Wait," he whispered when began to walk away. He extended his hand to me but the force field bounced it right back to his body but I latched onto it. Some of the iciness in his eyes melted and he intertwined our fingers. "Stay. Right there." He pointed a few feet away. "We might need you after all. To keep us sane."

And just like that, everything else was forgotten for a while.

* * *

Until Katherine opened her mouth.

"The three of us together just like old times. The brother who loved me too much," a zinger aimed right for Damon's weak heart. I offered him a reassuring smile. "And the one who didn't love me enough." A pointed look at Stefan.

"And the evil slut vampire who only loved herself," Damon retorted, not missing a beat. I gave him a thumbs up. His grin was cocky. I goofed around with him from my spot outside the room. And with few choice words, she began cracking my already fragile and unstable connection to Damon.

"Does Elena enjoy having both of you worship at her alter?"

And then, "So it doesn't bother you that Damon is in love with your girlfriend?"

I so badly wanted to see his reaction, to read the effects of her words from his face, to know the truth, but Damon was back inside the room, his back to me. Whether it was intentional or not, I have no way of figuring it out. I hope it wasn't. I sat quietly outside the barrier, knees tucked under my chin, listening as the boys tag-teamed on their former girlfriend. They had a way about them, the trio, a pattern and familiarity of people who knew each other._ Intimately_. Something bitter bubbled in my throat.

Stefan interrogated her, trying to put pieces of the puzzle together while she deflected and simultaneously had a verbal spar with Damon who gave back as good as he got it. I sat patiently, studying centuries old vampires try to antagonize each other. Katherine pushed and pushed and _pushed_ until Damon snapped and in a blur of black, slammed her against the wall, stake ready to strike. Stefan as always held him back.

"God, you're hot," Katherine said seductively, running her hand over Damon's chest. "When did you get to be so hot." And then to me, "You better keep him on a tighter leash if you wanna keep him for yourself, Charlie."

I flashed her the middle finger and I'm sure she'd have said something cruel or even try to defy the laws of magic just to rip my head off, but a pretty dark skinned woman stepped into the room, a familiar looking rock in her hand.

The cavalry has arrived. In the form of a witch. I got to my feet, knees popping in the effort.

"Katherine," she said. "Spell in this room has been broken. You're free to leave."

I admit, I freaked out a little on inside. So she could have rip my head off if she tried.

"Ugh, thank God."

"When I hand this over," the witch said, holding out the moonstone to the evil bitch. "My debt to you is over."

"Done."

"I owe you nothing."

"I said, done! Give it."

"Don't!" I yelled out just as Damon warned, "I wouldn't do that."

But she ignored us and placed it in Katherine's palm and all I could do is grit my teeth and await the death that was lurking around the corner.

A gasp resonated all through the room. It came from Katherine. As if she was in pain. I stood, watching in fascinated horror as she clutched at her neck and trembled.

"You should have told me there was another witch involved," the witch said with a bite in her voice. Her eyes were scornful, her head raised high. "She's a Bennett witch, Katherine. But I'm sure you already knew that." And then, the powerful and dangerous Katherine Pierce who's wrecked havoc and pain over centuries and countries, crumbled to the floor, like a mere mortal.

"Wait," Stefan stepped forward, worried. "Elena!"

"Elena's fine. The spell's broken. She'll heal quickly. Bonnie's with her." I stood rooted in my spot, witnessing history. Katherine is gone. Katherine is weak and in pain. It's all over.

"I apologize for my involvement," and with that, the witch was gone, leaving the three of us, staring at each other in awe and wonder.

* * *

The cold gust of wind blew my hair around my face. I wrapped the shawl around my shoulders tightly and blew into my hands to keep them warm. Soon I was hopping from foot to foot. The cemetery was eerily quiet or maybe I was projecting. I stood before my mother's grave, contemplating the events of the night. Damon's hand gripped mine. I let out a shriek when he surprised me. I was ready to give him an earful but held my tongue, realizing what he had just done.

Locked up the woman he's obsessively loved for a hundred forty-three years in a tomb.

Instead I massaged his arms, looked him dead in the eye. "I'm so proud of you, Damon."

His eyes seemed haunted and it broke my heart. I kissed him deeply. He responded with fervor and passionate desperation. He held me close, lifting off the ground and crushing me.

When he put me down, he interlaced our fingers, nodded at mom's grave – his peculiar way of showing respect and took me home. He didn't leave, not that I would let him but he crawled in with me. I curled myself against him and for the first time, I watched him fall asleep instantly, his lips against my temple and arms wound tightly around me.

Tomorrow, I would tell him. Tomorrow, I'd love him and with that vow, I followed him into dreamscape.

* * *

**A/N: I'm a liar. I know you've been all cussing me at me and pelting vervain soaked pebbles so all i can say is, SORRY! I'm not gonna go into details about why i've been away for so long. This is not a therapy session. I've been uber busy. Juggling uni, volunteer jobs and relationship dilemmas but i'm back. i'll try my hardest to update frequently.**

**That said, here's my longest chapter EVER. But im not satisfied with it because it was quickly slapped together so i feel it is a lil bit rusty but now, i've reached a milestone. Chapter 30! YAY! A first. Thank you all for your encouraging words and constant support. **

**Charlie's REAL story arc starts in the next chapter and i believe i have something good in store (Hopefully you'll like it) and it will tie in neatly with the whole Klause/hybrid crap and cures shit.**

**Guest: Thank you for your kind words.**

**Natalia Moreau: Mick's one of those rare almost on the verge of extinction kinda guy. I hate myself for breaking his heart. And I thought it was high time a new and improved West was back.**

**IloveYou1978: Que? ( coz you asked first!)**

**violet-amethyst: Well, i hope she isn't too strong and brave. Im trynna work on her vulnerable side.**

**5alvatore: And i'm glad you loved it. Makes my heart flutter.**

**Da Random Person: And i'm loving that you're lovin' it.**

**TVDlover87654: Who doesn't love the Winchesters and the Salvatores!**

**Big. Oak. 123 : Your prayer is answered. I hope I completed your life.**

**Muchas Gracias to all the readers and reviewers. Those who follow and favor my baby too.**

**Remember it takes hella effort to write but just a few seconds to comment. I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions. **

**xoxoxoxo**


	31. Chapter 31

**_The greatest deception men suffer is from their own opinion - Leonardo Da Vinci_**

I have a theory about life. Life, in a nutshell, is the sum of the choices we make. It is the clothes we wear, the people we greet and associate with, the schools we go to and the jobs we secure. Life is not what happens to us but how we choose to handle it. Do we stand firmly against the crashing tides of unpredictability or do we lie down and let it drag us into the ocean, peaceful and quiet in its suffocation?

I stare at the face of the devil, guised as the ultimate angel. Two dueling and polarizing sides of nature and humanity. Light and dark. Life and death. As a child, the concept of good and evil was clear-cut, distinct and veiled with images of majestic wings and fiery flames. If I only knew.

"_Baby-cakes, the devil is real. And he is beautiful."_ My father's voice echoes in the cathedral, escaping the confinements of long buried memories. And he is right. The devil, master of disguise is breath-taking in its beauty. The abject vileness lurking just beneath the surface.

Spurs of labored breathing starts on my left and I refuse to look at a broken and bleeding West on the ground, a writhing mass of blood. On my left, Jax lays unconscious, his legs positioned in an awkward angle.

I open my mouth to yell, to pray to God, to beg but coppery scent bursts into my mouth and blood leaks between my lips, trailing down my body, joining the blood on my neck and then my waist.

"Please," is all I can manage before he grabs me by the throat and submerges me in Holy water. Thrashing around is my first instinct, but I'm tired. So I give in, watching the red flow and sway in the water, trapped beneath the surface, keeping me company. And I love it. Peaceful and serene. And when my head touch the cool marble surface at the bottom, I let it go. All the hurt and confusion and fear and uncertainty.

Even the faces of loved ones and the blood curling howl of my best friend could not make me move any limb in self-preservation.

Life is the sum of our choices. I wouldn't change the path that lead me here, my choices, though it cost me my life, it lead me to the truth. I've chased the storm and caught up with it.

The sweetest submission is in death and I close my eyes, welcoming it.

* * *

**_ Eighteen hours before_**

"Do you wanna talk about it?" West asked tentatively, eyes focused on the dark road.

"Just drive."

He does. I got five minutes of peace before he sighed, scratched the back of his head, fiddled with the heater. "Charlie, I'm trying not freak out here. You've been acting crazy… more than usual and if Jenna finds out your bed is empty, I'm sure they will pin the blame on me. What was so important that you couldn't wait till the morning to drive to Massachusetts?"

The voice of Damon, vulnerable, honest and soft rings in my ears. _I love you_ he said.

To Elena. While I stood outside her room, heart stuttering into a dead stop.

"_I love you, Elena. And it's because I love you that I can't be selfish with you, why you can't know this. I don't deserve you, but my brother does."_

"And the funny things is," I continued, voicing my frustration and hurt at West who was silent and stony. "I wasn't shocked. I had my suspicions, you know. I'm not a fool, I knew he held a flame for her. And it wasn't even the fact that he told her that he loves her that gets me, it… it's the honesty." I glanced at West to gauge the level of stupidity that was falling from my lips. He gave away nothing. Another facet of his morphing personality. "It was the quiver in his voice and the desperation of his soul that cuts deep. He's never been that way with me."

Silence.

"Say something," I whispered, feeling foolish.

"Want me to placate you or tell you the ugly truth?"

I mulled over it for a few seconds. "The truth," I decided.

He took a deep breathe and gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Okay. Here goes. I've been wanting to tell you this ever since I got back but I just didn't – couldn't – find a way to go about it." He turned off the radio and pinned with a somber expression. "You're in denial."

"_Excuse me?_"

"Wait- let me finish what I've to say before you chew my head off! You're in denial and let me tell you why. Your mother has been dead for a little over a month and I still haven't seen you grieve."

Indignant I opened my mouth but his withering glare made be double-take.

"I mean, _really_ grieve. Instead you fall into bed with Damon Salvatore, who, in case you forgot is a vampire and a killer. And I get it, he was there with you in New York. But have you thought about it? You needed somebody and he was there. Very convenient for you."

"What is that supposed mean?" I asked, defensively.

"That it could have been anyone!" he burst out, making me jump in my seat. "It could have been Stefan, or Tyler or me! It could have been anyone and you'd have clung to them because you were broken, Charlie. You're projecting all you pain onto him and idolizing him."

My mind races back to the night I found him, how all my tethers were collapsing one by one, with every lie I discovered. I was scared, empty and alone. The ground didn't feel steady beneath my feet and the bruises on my skin, a work of art I created to mask the pain inside me by rushing off to do something recklessly, didn't offer comfort of protection. Seeing Damon, in his leather jacket and the hideous day ring in Staten Island, a piece of my past, my identity unsoiled by the supernatural, was so foreign and surreal yet familiar that the smallest resolve I was clinging to shattered and I threw myself in his arms. And haven't left the safety they provided ever since. Is it possible that this was all transference on my part?

"I'm not sayin' he doesn't care about you," West went on. "I think he does, to some extent. But we both know, if it ever came down to you and Elena, he'll always choose her."

In the morning, I woke up to an empty bed and half an hour later, he called telling me that once again, Elena's life was in peril. He tried his best to cover up the guilt but I knew him. Damon had a tunnel vision where Elena was concerned. Without another word to me, he hung up and I didn't see him. Until he poured his heart out to her and disappeared after compelling her to forget.

As much as it hurt, I nodded my head in agreement. "You're right."

"I don't want to be right," West told me, looking torn and guilty. "You are an amazing person, Charlie. He doesn't deserve you! You don't have to settle for someone like him."

Reaching over, I squeezed his arm reassuringly, trying to elevate the distress he was in.

"But you know what they say," I told him with a wry smile. "You can't help who you fall in love it. I've tried resisting. _Believe_ me, but it doesn't work that way."

"Life never does," he conceded. "So, this impromptu trip to Salem is a distraction?"

I wrapped my arms around me tightly and gazed out at the long-winding dark road. "I realized that my agenda is different from Elena's. My dad is priority to me and with Katherine gone and Elena's captors taken care of, it's my turn."

West put the radio on, ruffled my hair and I knew that as long as I had West on my side, I could tackle anything that came my way.

* * *

"You think we got the right place?" I asked him. West cocked his head to side, contemplating the generic building and very ordinarily looking detective agency.

"Doesn't scream supernatural to me," he mumbled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. I took a sip of my jumbo sized coffee and worked a crick out my neck.

"Maybe that's the idea. To pass off as normal. Hide in plain sight." When I didn't hear his reply, I put down the binoculars and faced him. He was dozing off. I shook him awake roughly.

"Okay, okay! I'm awake. Jeez Louise." He stretched his arms. "Friggin' hell, I feel so cramped."

Grabbing my messenger bag, I got out the car and locked it. I patiently waited for West to get some squats and jumping jacks done on the side of the street.

"You look like a fool," I told him honestly.

"It's nine am. People do exercise. I fit in."

"Yeah. With jeans and polo shirt. You look the part." A gulp of heavenly coffee. "I'd offer you this," I said shaking my to-go mug in his face. "But you seem to be doin' a fine job waking yourself up. Don't ever say that I do nothing for you. I'm standing by you while you jump around like an oversized preppy toddler."

"Wow. The rate at which you measure friendship is so superficial."

I grinned at him. "I never pretended to be anything I'm not."

"Clearly."

I rooted through my bag. When I got the mars bar, I tossed it him. "Eat up, Grouchy. We've got a long day ahead of us."

Humming with satisfaction, he motioned to _Dance Investigation_ and mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate to lead the way. As soon as we opened the door, it was sensory overboard. The smell of burning incense, brew of freshly made coffee and cigarettes made my nose itch, along with the smoke. Fax machines were whirring, in the distance a phone rang and music that sounded like cable crash pounded in my ears. West began to cough and then sneeze. I elbowed him and that only got him wheezing.

"Someone's at the door! Turn off da damn music!" a female voice yelled. I took an inventory of my surrounding, trying to identify anything paranormal about them. Generic couches and coffee tables. The reception desk was high and made of oak tree. Fake decorative plants arranged in the corners. A bowl made of china lay at the desk, along with two phones and a computer screen. A small corridor led to more rooms, probably office and storage. All in all, it resembled my parents agency. And then I remembered that Vinnie told me they took on supernatural cases as well, which goes to show, not everything is what it seems.

"You need some water, sugah?"

My eyes nearly fell out when I saw the look of ultimate lust on West face as he faced the woman addressing him. A busty young woman with jet-engine hair and the tightest clothes I've ever seen anyone wear adorning her curvaceous body was checking out West. West was doing the same.

"Uh…no," he stammered. "No. I'm fine now."

"What can I do for ya'll?"

I stepped forward with purpose when I realized what a pathetic tongue-tied male my friend was being. "Hi. We're here to see Chuck Dance."

The woman turned her gaze on me. "You got an appointment?"

"No." I followed her to the reception desk. She sat on her chair and flicked on her computer.

"Then I'm afraid you'll have to make one now and – " She broke off when the music got louder. "One moment." She picked up the phone. "Turn da damn music off! I got customers! Wanna explain to bossman how you ran them out. I ain't takin' the fall for you this time, Seth. Not this time!" she hang up with a force that might have cracked the phone a little. West and I exchanged looks.

"Okay. So any particular reason you kids need the services of a PI?"

"That's a private matter. Look, I need to see him. It's kind of an urgent matter."

She smiled. "I'm sorry. But my hands are tied. Chuck is very specific about his clients." She fixed us with a haughty look. "And, not for nothin', but the hell are you gonna pay for this anyway. You're just babies."

My jaw went a little slack. I was very tempted to reach over the desk and throttle her. A few choice words were ready to trip off my tongue but thank heavens because West intercepted it.

He moved forward, a boyish grin painted on his lips as he leaned closer to the bitch.

"If you help us out, we'll be forever indebted to you. You see, me and Charlie here drove seven hours, all the way from Mystic Falls. Can you squeeze us in for a morning consultation, hm?"

Bitch face seemed to be wrestling with her thoughts, the struggle evident on her face. Before she give us answer, the front door banged open, bringing in a gust of wind and a tall, slender brightly dressed women, chattering away.

"G, you won't believe the night I had! You'd have thunk bein' paired up with Jax would have sucked but, I tell ya, na-uh! Mind-blowing." She flung her bag on the couch, her scarf followed and two folders. I took in her attire. Long flowy white skirt, a black tank-top, a beaded belt and a green fedora hat. Very boho-grungy look. She was pretty, in a waifish classical way. West got shot by cupid twice in one day.

The newcomer gave us a smile and passed by, still talking away. "It was a success and I ended up saving Jax's ass. Not once, but twice and ouch! Dafuq was that for?" Bitch face side-eyed us so not subtly and when her point hit home, the woman grew quiet and sheepish. "Sorry. I'm running on Redbulls and caffeine-tablets. I was up all night and unfortunately, that usually means forgettin all the manners Nanna drummed into me. I'm Alex. This here is Gina," she pointed to Bitch face. "And I'm guessing she hasn't introduced herself. Or offered you something to drink. Or eat. Or a seat."

While to the two of them were busy glaring at each other, I checked my vibrating phone. Third call from Damon in the past seven hours. Lovely. I let it go to voice-mail. West handed me a chilled can of coke. When I glanced up at him, he held an identical one in his hand.

"They're here to see Chuck," Bitch…Gina told Alex.

Alex seemed surprised. "Oh, really. Well, he's in right now, if you want to see him."

Gina protested before I could get a word in edge-wise. "They don't have an appointment."

"So?"

"So? So? _SO?_" Gina blubbered. "He's gonna have my ass on a spike if I piss him off again. And you know he hasn't gotten over totaling the Camaro. I ain't taking the risk."

"We drove for seven hours," I put out there.

"Shit! Then you must see him," Alex insisted. I smirked at the glaring Gina. "Anything in particular you guys need to talk to him about. I pretty much over see the entire operation so…"

"It's a missing person," I told her. I wasn't sure how to broach the other topic into the conversation.

"Don't we have Seth for that?" Gina said.

"Seth is busy."

"No. He's listening to that god-awful music, probably jerking off to your photo."

"Actually, I caught him once with staring at a photo of one of them girls on WWE."

"Which one?"

"Dunno. She wore a very small bikini. Think he's into that? I mean all that spandex and muscles and –"

West cleared his throat, bringing them back to focus. Alex shook her and said, "Sorry. Uh, yes, Chuck and missing person." She clapped her hands together as if she reached a decision. "Okay. How about you wait here, please, take a seat and I'll be right back."

As we waited, my phone buzzed again. Elena. I showed it to West and he rolled his eyes. I was grateful for the small show of solidarity. Few minutes later, West's phone began ringing. Matt the screen read. I shook my head. I wasn't ready to answer any of their nagging questions or pleads to come back home.

"Hey, Charlie," West began softly. "Have you thought this through?"

"What's there to think about?" I asked, confused my his question.

He leaned closer to me, dropping his voice an octave. "I'd just hate it for you to get your hopes up and end up getting them crushed."

"Don't worry. I know this is just a lead."

"It's not just a lead, Charlie. It's your father. Just prepare yourself for the failure."

The clicking of heels against the floor announced Alex arrival. Her smile was a bit dimmer but she motioned for us to follow her. I threw Gina, Bitch receptionist extraordinaire a smug look.

The music got louder with every step we took. Alex didn't seem bothered by it. I glanced into some open rooms, which furnished to like offices. She stopped in front of the last door in the hallway. In a hushed voice, she said, "A couple of words of wisdom. Chuck doesn't beat around the bush. He is blunt to a fault but it's nothing personal. Also, push him. He admires a person who isn't afraid of going after what they want." She knocked the door and turned to us. "Oh, and you're his ten o'clock."

"We are?" West asked.

"We are," I reiterated.

"You are," Alex confirmed.

Chuck Dance was a big burly man, with a barrel chest. His face was covered by a beard and the gray hair sprinkled in on a full head of hair. He didn't stand to greet us. Just nodded to the chairs. His office was sparsely decorated. Two arm chairs, a desk and a swivel chair. He had a laptop, cordless phone, printer. A fan whirred in the corner. One wall doubled adorned photos and diplomas. Another housed old, thick books that would seem right up Alaric's alley.

"What can do you for you kids?" His voice was surprisingly smooth and deep. I expected it to be gruff for some reason. West went to soldier mode instantly, shoulders tense and back ram-rod straight. I took my time settling down. He looked between us. "Which one of you is my client?"

"I am. Charlie Sanders." His eyes settled back on West, the question unspoken. "He's a friend."

He steepled his fingers and sat back on his chair. "Alex told me you're here for a missing person." I nodded. "Might telling me why you haven't contacted the police?"

"We did."

"We?"

"My mother and I."

"Who's the missing person?"

"My father." Knots formed in my stomach. "He went missing over a year ago. He's an investigative journalist for the New York Times. He said he'd follow up some leads all across the country but he never showed up. The last place he was seen was here in Salem approximately seven months ago." I produced a photo out of my bag and slid it across the table. Chuck picked up, a quick glance and then dropped back on the table.

"Have you seen him?" I asked, my palms beginning to dampen.

He waited a beat. "Yes."

I could literally feel the sigh of relief emanating from West. His smile was wide and happy, the same smile he gave me when we first met.

"When?"

"He came to me last summer."

"And? What did he want?" I edged closer to the desk. My heart was trembling inside my rib-cage.

"Gary Sanders, isn't it?"

"You know him?"

Chuck nodded. "I've worked with him couple of times. I assume you know about his… uh, profession."

I nodded impatiently. I was so close to all my answers. "Yes. I know about the supernatural. In fact, the Winchester brothers sent me here."

"And you must be a hunter?" Chuck directed this question to West who balked in shock.

"How-how did you know?"

"Your body. Stance. And I caught a glimpse of the bulge on the sleeve of your jeans. Your stake is too evident. Might invest in some boots. They come in handy, in more ways than one."

"Okay. That is all well and nice but what do you know about my father!" I cut them off.

Chuck scratched at his beard and said, "I'm afraid a little. He dropped by unannounced, drank coffee. Asked about the business."

"But what did he want from you? He wouldn't just drop in for no reason. Is there any specific case he picked up, or a contact you referred to him?"

Chuck shook his head. "Sorry, Kid. He just came in for a chat. However, he did say he was following a lead to this city and just came to say hi."

I could feel myself slipping back to the abyss of despair again. "Did he mention where he was staying? Or his next destination?" It was West who picked up the conversation, while I internally freaked out.

Chuck really looked sympathetic as he shook his head. "He probably intentionally withheld the information knowing you might come and find him."

But why would he hide from us. My mind took a turn for the worst, thinking that he's had found someone else, someone besides my mother and decided to settle down with them. A new family. _Abandonment_. _Rejection. _I shook the thoughts out of my head and chastised myself for being stupid and jumping to conclusions.

"I even told your mother the same thing," Chuck added, as if it would prove a point. But it didn't. and I got irrationally angry at him. I sprang to my feet. "Yeah, fat lotta good it did her. Do me a favor, next time my father decides to pop by, unannounced, let him know that his wife's dead and it is his fault."  
I rushed out the door, ignoring the guilty faces of Alex and Gina. I wanted to get as far away from everyone as I could. I wanted to scream till my throat bled. I wanted to cry till I drowned in my tears. I wanted to scorch the earth until I came face-to-face with my father.

Instead, I sat on the curb, feeling the heat of the sun against the back of my neck. I worked on my breathing. Booted feet appeared in my line of vision. I followed the ripped jeans, the broad chest covered in a white t-shirt and black leather jacket, until I came face to face, with a young man with Aviator glasses and a cigarette hanging from his lips.

"Fancy a fag, love," he asked. It took me a few seconds to process the meaning of his words, because they absolutely made no sense in this part of the hemisphere.

"Back the hell up, Jax or shoot you in the balls," Gina's disembodied voice carried out to the street. "And don't think I won't. We can't deal with a sexual harassment law suit thanks to you."

The blond man smirked at the direction of the office and took of his sunglasses. His green eyes were dancing with mirth. West walked out, Alex hot on his heels. When he spotted me, his shoulders slumped in relief. He cupped by elbows and got me on my feet.

"You okay?" he asked worriedly. Alex's pretty face bore the same expression and it made me feel guilty at my childish outburst.

"I'm better now. Sorry for rushing out like that. I don't know what came over me."

Alex brushed it aside. "It's alright. Happens to the best of us." After a beat. "Also, sorry about the whole eavesdropping." Jax's snorted and she sent him a withering glare. "But uh…if you're still planning on chasing this lead, I can help you."

I blinked in surprise. "Why?"

She laughed nervously. "Well, Chuck has been lighting our asses on fire for not doing any pro bono work or getting enough practice, and I can do both and help you find your father. It's a win-win-win situation."

"What she means is that she recognizes an opportunity to stir some trouble up and get on her Chuck's tits," Jax supplied.

"Just so you know, your pro bono files are piling up. And yes, I know you shoved half of them in the vent. We found them last week and if you don't want me to bring it to Chuck's attention, you're going to be a good boy scout and help us out."

Jax placed a hand over his heart and staggered back. "You wound me, Alexis. You didn't have to resort to blackmail, you know I'd move heaven and hell if you asked me."

Watching their interaction elevated some of my anxiety. Their playful banter reminded me of my own dynamic with Damon. A pang resonated in my heart at the thought of him. I realized that West was right. This impromptu investigation served as a distraction for me. My personal form of procrastination. West whispered in my ear whether I wanted to go home. It surprised me how readily and vehemently I shook my head. Jax took his Aviator and dropped it on Alex's face. She laughed at something he said and when she turned to me with her offer, I took it.

"But, before we all go gung-ho and crazy, can we get breakfast?"West wanted to know. In cue, his stomach grumbled. "It is, after all, the most important meal of the day."

"Anyone up for pancakes?"

**_Warren House, Harvard Campus, Massachusetts_**

"Aren't you going out for lunch, Professor Dubois?"

Mathieu Dubois looked up from the Sanskrit text he was examining and faced the young woman. He appraised her body language. Open. Playful. The smile had a forced innocence, the hair loose while just moments ago tied into a ponytail. She even opened the buttons of her tight dress shirt. Mathieu cringed inwardly, cursing for being to occupied in his lectures to have agreed to one-on-one consultations. He avoided them like the plaque. And for very good reasons.

"Not yet," he answered his student in a crisp tone. And then feeling guilty, he added, "I'm expecting company." Amusedly, he watched as she tried to fight a grimace but Mathieu was an expert when it came to human emotions and gestures. He has, after all, lived among them for centrism.

"Oh, well, I'll see you around."

When he was finally alone in his office, he closed the old text with care and brought out the manila folder. He set about getting ready for his guest. He poured blood into two tumblers and topped them with wine. As soon as he took a sip, the door to his office opened.

"You were supposed to bring it a month of ago," Mathieu said in lieu of greeting.

"Some of us are actually running for our lives," Gary replied with a bite. He placed a suitcase on the desk and accepted the drink his friend offered. Mathieu watched as he gulped down the drink in one go and slumped down into the arm chair. He watched the changes in his friend and compared them to the one he was two years ago. There was no actual physical changes, but he seemed taller and stronger. It was the emotional changes that bothered him.

Mathieu walked to his desk and flipped open the file. He felt the corners of lips pull into a genuine smile as he gazed at the photos. _Just as beautiful as her mother_.

He tossed them to Gary. "Your daughter is here. Chuck called me the minute she left his office."

Gary studied the photos intently. "What did he tell her?"

"Nothing. Tried his best to dissuade her." He waited a few seconds. "You should talk to her."

Gary set the file aside and got to his feet. He began opening the suitcase. "No. that's not going to happen. She better off without me."

"That's what you think. But she needs answers. And if she's anything like her mother, she won't stop. And that would get her into some deep trouble. And then, you, _mon ami_, will come to me, with all your guilt and self-loathing, I simply do not have time or effort to baby-sit you."

Gary said nothing and continued with his business. Mathieu placed the tumbler on the table and reached into the bag. The feel of worn out leather was a welcome.

"Was the journey fruitful?" he asked Gary, while his fingers examined the centuries old book.

"I went all over the damn country. No witch could decode it." He raked his hand in his hair. "It's pointless. A year spent searching and – "

"Maybe Jessica could have opened it," Mathieu cut him off. "You know, if she wasn't dead and all."

A tense silence filled the air. Both men held their gaze, refusing to admit defeat. Gary turned away first. "Probably," he muttered.

Mathieu locked the book away in his drawer. "What about Charlie? She is after all her mother's daughter."

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's too risky."

"Riskier than Klaus getting to her. There is chatter, Gary. People are talking. Klaus is coming out of seclusion and the best chance for her survival is for both of you to leave the country."

"I'm being hunted," Gary explained through gritted teeth. "By Klaus. By hunters. By witches. By people I thought were my friends. And the best shot for Charlie is for my survival."

"She needs protection," Mathieu pushed his point.

"And she has that. In Mystic Falls. She has friends and family."

Mathieu couldn't help but laugh. "What protection? Huh? The Salvatore brothers. Is that your idea of protection. Katerina Petrova is there. So is her doppelganger and we both know what Klaus wants more than this book, more than Charlie. And the first place he's going to visit is that god forsaken town." He paused. "At least offer her a way of defending herself."

"She's learning enough."

"From Connor Dylan's newly turned hunter of a son. Great."

"What do you want from me?" Gary shouted, startling Mathieu. Mathieu temper flared.

"I want you to break the spellbinding! I want you to get your head outta your ass and realize that your daughter needs you! She needs her father. She needs to know its not her fault! She blames herself for Jessica's death. I can see it in her face. And yet, you're the reason why she's dead!" he was on a roll. "Yes, you killed her. With your obsession and negligence. You are a coward, Gary Sanders."

The silence that followed was the longest and deadliest Mathieu had ever faced in his life. Gary, without a word, got to his feet and walked to the door. Mathieu had the sudden urge to call him back and apologize. But all he had to remember was the feeling of utter anguish when the news of Jessica death reached him. Gary's voice was a flat, monotone.

"If she comes to you, don't tell her anything. For all intents and purpose, I'm as good as dead to her. And if I find out that you've gone behind my back, no gods or deities will save you from my wrath. I don't care how many years of friendships we share or how much you loved Jessica, I _will_ kill you."

Mathieu stood rooted at his spot, the vibration of the slamming door rocking the molecules of his body.

_"Mon Dieu,_" he whispered, a horrible feeling stirring in his gut.

* * *

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